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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29330772">skins.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/godjo/pseuds/godjo'>godjo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bullying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Drama, Grooming, Heavy Angst, Mental Health Issues, Pseudo-Incest, Smut, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Step-Sibling Incest, soulmate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:19:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,359</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29330772</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/godjo/pseuds/godjo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kiyoomi Sakusa thought he broke you. And for the record, you believed he did, too.<br/>You played his games with blindfolded eyes, causing you to trip and bleed for times that you couldn’t count. </p>
<p>He has always made you feel that the joke was on you. Perhaps it was. But one thing was for sure, the next time he tried to point the knife in your throat, you would lick the edge of it and bite him with bloodstained teeth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Reader, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Little Sister</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was eight years ago when you first met him. He was tall, and you have believed that the description was an understatement. The kind of tall that would make you feel small whenever you stand near him.</p><p>Curly raven-hair, eyes as black as an abyss they were almost terrifying, and two dots adorning the right side of his forehead over his thick yet kept brows, Kiyoomi Sakusa was a sight for many. Boys and girls alike. </p><p>Once, you were one of the populace who drooled at the colossal sight of him. Not until he opened his mouth and showed the whole school how vicious he could be. </p><p>When girls squeak at the sight of him, you couldn’t help but taste acid in your tongue. He was worse in school, but they didn’t know him behind closed doors. At home, he was disgustingly deplorable. </p><p>How did you know? You practically lived with him. Well, not literally because there was still a backyard dividing their place and yours. But both of you were hanging on the thread of being siblings because his father and your mother had been dating for quite some time now. </p><p>The truth was, the whole village belonged to the Sakusas. Yes. A whole village. You and your mother occupied a small yet comfortable portion of it beside the Sakusas’ gigantic one. </p><p>It was gigantic for two people. The house was built with a modern touch. Floor-to-ceiling windows paired with granite and slabs of stone that the best architects suggested. From the façade, there was no doubt it cost a million. And the interior of it was another money. </p><p>Looking at it from outside, your house was utterly humbled beside it. Well, you didn’t need a house that big you would have a hard time finding your mother, though. </p><p>Honestly, you didn’t approve of the set-up. Your mother had quit her job to move across the country closer to her workplace. Therefore living closer to her boyfriend and his son. After a month of convincing, you finally budged in. Remembering that it was nearby your dream school. </p><p>Dream school turned into a nightmare the moment you realized you won’t have a glorious last year because of one person. </p><p>Kiyoomi Sakusa. </p><p>He hated your guts, and you hated him back for that. Albeit lesser. What hate he felt for you, it was astronomical. You couldn’t quite grasp that a person could feel that kind of loathing towards someone. But Kiyoomi, he could. He does. </p><p>You didn’t understand why you had to be separated by a yard. Not that you complained. You much preferred putting a lot of space between you two and you were grateful that your mother decided to rent the house beside theirs than live with them.</p><p>Besides, your mother told Kento that a new environment would perplex you. Having two men living with you when you haven’t had a father figure in your life would make it much worse.</p><p>Of course, you’d appreciate that. However, there were a lot of downsides to it. Particularly now, when your mother told you to deliver the dish she made for Kento and his son, Kiyoomi. </p><p>You could only hope that Kento’s at home and he would be the one to accept the food. The energy of dealing with Kiyoomi was nowhere in your system as you were worrying about the exams. For the love of God, the boy was a walking warrior and he looked at the world as if it were a battlefield he always needed to win over. </p><p>However, when you knocked, no one answered. You debated leaving the dish on their doorstep but that would be rude. Kento would ask why and you clearly didn’t have anything reasonable to answer if ever. </p><p>Your mother and Kento looked at your relationship with Kiyoomi through rose-tinted glasses. Perhaps they still couldn’t accept that Kiyoomi was a six-foot tall dickhead and there was no way someone would get along with him.</p><p>“Kento? Omi?” you called while pushing the doorbell. </p><p>Omi, short for Kiyoomi. You have heard his friends call him that. But whenever you do, he always looked at you as if he wanted to burn you down and obliterate any trace of you and your ancestors in the face of the earth. </p><p>Now’s not the time to think about that. You have to get back to your reviewers as soon as possible. So you tried pushing the surface of the massive oak door, hoping to God it wasn’t locked. It wasn’t. </p><p>It was open and there were noises coming from the living room. Noises of sucking and giggling. You froze. But the door didn’t. It has unlatched, revealing Kiyoomi sprawled on the couch, with a girl straddling his lap. </p><p>It would seem as though he was anticipating your arrival. For his eyes were set on you the moment you walked in while the girl continued grinding on him. </p><p><em> Move </em>. But your body won’t let you. You were nailed in your position, watching him plumped her breast to suck her nipple. All while looking at you. </p><p>Your breath was caught in your throat. Tingles travelled all over your body, puckering your nipples underneath your bra. Something swirled in the pit of your stomach down to your sex where it doesn’t have any business of going. </p><p>Out of all the rooms in this house, he preferred to do his business in their living room?</p><p>A glint of mischief danced in the void that were his eyes. He was enjoying this. He was raving over the sight of you frozen on your feet, unable to look away while he sucked another girl’s tit. </p><p>“You want me to eat that pussy?” he rasped, voice overflowing with crudeness. The question was obviously for the girl, but his attention was glued to you. If that made you happy or miserable was up for debate. </p><p>“Hm, please!” she shrieked. It took all your willpower not to hurl the lunch you have eaten. It also took all your restrain to not pull her hair and drag her out of the building. </p><p>“Beg for it, baby.” </p><p>Kiyoomi Sakusa loved torturing you. And you loved proving him that his efforts were for naught. That gave you the first seat in the list of people he wanted to destroy. But in your own list, cowering under him was last. </p><p>No matter what he does, he could never break you.  </p><p>Normalizing your breathing until you were certain you looked totally blasé, you gripped the tupperware tightly and turned your back against the moans that had been intensified by Kiyoomi grabbing the girl’s rear. </p><p>“I’ll leave it in the kitchen. You could preheat it later.” </p><p>He was unfazed. Unbothered. But the girl on his lap whirled, completely bowled over at the sound of your voice. </p><p>“What the fuck?!” she gasped, grabbing her shirt beside Kiyoomi to cover her chest. Too late. “Talk about some fucking manners,” she groaned.</p><p>You knew her. Of course, you do. She was one of the It Girls at Redlands Institute. One of the girls who struts the hallways as if it was a runway. And if it was about manners, she wasn’t one to talk.</p><p>Kiyoomi chuckled, but there was no humor in it. His eyes burned holes on your back as you continued to walk. Why was this house so friggin’ huge anyways?</p><p>“Threesome?” he offered. As if you were going to a picnic and eat if you nodded yes. </p><p>On auto-pilot, you gritted out, “No, and you’re disgus—”</p><p>“Then get the fuck out.” </p><p>He had already returned his attention to the girl he was fucking when you shoot him a glare. If Kento wasn’t living with him, you would have poured a container of salt into the dish your mother made. But that would be pathetic and you won’t take the chance. </p><p>You returned to your house with a heavy heart. Encountering Kiyoomi really took a toll on your energy. He was just a walking menace. Ready to suck out the life of everyone around him. </p><p>Sitting on your desk, you noticed your calendar plastered in front of you on the wall. In less than a month, you would celebrate your birthday. Eighteenth birthday. In less than a month, your soulmate mark would finally appear. </p><p>Something bloomed in your chest. A familiar feeling of bliss at the thought of your soulmate. </p><p>What would it be like? Your soulmate mark? Would it be initials? Like your mother and father’s mark? Or would it be more complicated yet exciting than that? Would something change in you physically when you finally meet your soulmate? </p><p>Thinking about the possibilities painted a childish grin on your lips. Accompanied with a swooning sign as you stared at the dates. </p><p>Your daydreams were lacerated by the ding of your phone. The name plastered on the screen stretched out your smile even wider. </p><p>
  <b>Atsumu: I hate to say this, and I should probably go back to my reviewers, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. </b>
</p><p>Biting your lower lip to suppress your elation, you typed in your reply. </p><p>
  <b>You: Your reviewers might get jealous, Miya.</b>
</p><p>It’s been exactly a week since Atsumu Miya, Redland Institute Volleyball Club’s setter braved himself to get your number. It’s been a week since you started exchanging late night texts and good morning messages. </p><p>He hadn’t asked you out on a date yet. And you hated to be the one to suggest. So far, it’s better to be like this. No rushing. If your soulmate marks would appear, it won’t be hard to cut off this thing with Atsumu. </p><p>He knew the drill. Every person who dates without having their soulmate mark yet knew it. </p><p>
  <b>Atsumu: Wishing you were the one I’m doing instead of these schoolworks. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>You: That earned you a -0 point, Miya. </b>
</p><p>You exchanged messages for an hour, until you convinced him he needed to dig his grades up like how he does volleyball. Not that it mattered. Atsumu Miya was one of the most valuable players of Redlands. That was a privilege. Especially when Redlands prides itself on being unbeatable in volleyball tournaments. </p><p>For someone who inspired Atsumu to study, you were a bluff. Because you couldn’t stop thinking about the image of Kiyoomi earlier. Hindering your study session. </p><p>Were they still on it? Were their tongues still deep in each other’s throat? </p><p>In the middle of exams, Kiyoomi still prioritizes girls. Talk about being born with a golden spoon in your mouth. You doubt he would need to study and work by the fortune his father had. </p><p>The Sakusas have several hotels built here in Santa Monica and in neighboring cities. Some were rated five-stars, some were merely motels for travelers to stop by.</p><p>The house that houses you and your mother would cost a fortune. But Kento had never accepted any payments. You guessed dealing with his son was enough payment already. </p><p>When the moon finally appeared in the skies, your mother arrived with the biggest smile on her face. She was supposed to come home late. What happened? </p><p>“You better get dressed. We’re eating dinner with Kento and Omi,” she said, head peeking at the space on your door. </p><p>Confused, you let your pen fall down the table with a small thud. “Again? What’s the occasion this time?” </p><p>It was a stupid question. Kento and your mother didn’t need an occasion to have dinner together. But it’s dinner. Kiyoomi doesn’t dine with any of you, but the possibility of him having a change of heart about his future new family scares you. Turned out, you still haven’t readied yourself to be his sister. </p><p>“You’d find out soon enough,” she sing-songed, winking, “Stand up and shower, dear. The chef would arrive soon.” </p><p>“Chef? What—” The door finally closed. </p><p>What on earth was going on? </p><p>You understood your mother’s behest when you arrived at the Sakusas that night. The dining area was lit with huge candles. Even though gigantic chandeliers were hanging on the ceiling to provide light. This time, they glowed faintly above your heads. </p><p>There were the helpers, fixing the utensils, pouring wine and juices in the glasses. </p><p>Kiyoomi was nowhere to be found. Which was good. But your comfort didn’t last long when you felt his presence behind you. He was just like that. Oozing authority whenever he was. </p><p>He trudged towards his usual seat, popping a grape into his mouth that he fished out of the helper’s tray. He didn’t bother acknowledging you or your mother’s presence. Which made your blood boil instantly. </p><p>“What do we have here?” He squinted at the dishes laid out on the long table, feigning amusement. </p><p>“Good evening, Omi,” your mother greeted, flashing him one of her friendly smiles. </p><p>Kiyoomi quirked a brow, not bothering to return the smile. You bit the insides of your cheek. As your mother’s daughter, you have reminded her for many times already not to act so chummy with Kiyoomi. Especially when the boy doesn’t give two shits about her. </p><p>“Is it?” Kiyoomi asked, looking at her straight in the eyes. “You see, seeing you in here,” he groaned, focus venturing towards you, “With your daughter really does ruin my night.” </p><p>“Omi!” Kento glared at his son, exasperated. “Just this night. Please.” Please behave like a proper human being, you heard the unspoken words. </p><p>Kiyoomi drank from his wine glass and emptied it in one gulp. You looked at him, disgust clear on your face.</p><p>Whenever Kiyoomi would throw his tantrums like a three-year-old, you try to think about Kento. That was why you were always considerate of his son. But tonight, he was extra nasty. You didn’t know how long you would last until you finally caved in and started to throw words at him. </p><p>“Clare, Y/N, please sit.” Kento motioned for you to settle down. As usual, you sat beside your mother. Kiyoomi was right there on the opposite side while Kento sat on the chair at the head of the table. </p><p>“I told you, you didn’t have to prepare so many dishes,” your mother sighed. </p><p>Mouth watering, you roamed your eyes around the table. There were different kinds of dishes and they kept coming. It was, indeed, a feast. </p><p>Kento smiled at her heartily. Devotion evident in his eyes. Kiyoomi must’ve taken after his mother. For Kento’s eyes were a deep shade of brown. While Kiyoomi’s were pools of darkness. </p><p>“It’s alright. Besides, it’s a special night.” </p><p>In your peripheral, you saw Kiyoomi tensed. The both of you did, with different reasons. There was a glitter of excitement in you while Kiyoomi tensed with disdain. </p><p>“What’s going on?” you finally asked. </p><p>The utensils clanked around you as Kiyoomi began to put food on his plate. By the quantity, you were certain he didn’t plan to see this dinner through. </p><p>Your mother snaked her hand towards Kento, then she grasped it tightly before looking at you and at Kiyoomi. </p><p>“We’re engaged,” they both said in unison. </p><p>Silence. Then you saw it when your mother sheepishly raised her right hand, presenting you a diamond ring. </p><p>“I... Mom, Kento...” You were lost for words. Were you happy? You should be happy. But that small, pathetic part of you couldn’t relish. “Congratulations!” you finally exclaimed, pushing on your seat to hug your mother and Kento. </p><p>“Thank you, dear,” your mother said, teary-eyed. Kento only squeezed your arm with a smile. </p><p>You went back to your chair, pretending to eat even though your appetite has declined. What was wrong with you? </p><p>“I see,” Kiyoomi finally spoke. “You’ve finally moved on from Mom. Congratulations, Dad.” </p><p>The three of you looked at him. Really looked at him. </p><p>“Really, Omi?” you spat out. Why did he need to mention his mother? The four of you knew how touchy the subject was. </p><p>Ignoring you, he stood up, grabbing his wine glass and tipping it to the air. “Here’s to the newly engaged: I hope this is your last marriage, Dad. You see, I may be an asshole, but I hate to see Clare’s heart shattering on these floors.” He looked at your mother. “Also, I didn’t take you for a diamond-girl, Clare. Thought you preferred gemstones and shit.” Then back to his father. “Try not to search for another flesh to warm you up at night when she finally managed to bore the fuck outta you.” </p><p>Your hands were curled into fists. So does Kento’s. Glancing at your mom, who had her head bowed down, your heart shattered inside your chest. This was supposed to be a special night. Ruined yet again by the heartless prick in front of you. </p><p>“So, that’s that. Stay in love,” he added before emptying his glass and walking away. </p><p>Silence once again fell in the dining area. No one dared confront Kiyoomi of his rotten display of attitude. And that would always baffle you. If you were his father, you would’ve disinherited him at this point. </p><p>“Y/N! Come back here!” your mom called when you hastily stood up to follow Kiyoomi. </p><p>He was ascending the stairs up to his room. You jogged and struggled to catch up to him, when you finally did, the hallways towards his bedroom enveloped the both of you. </p><p>“What was that?!” You glared at him, clumping a handful of his shirt. </p><p>Kiyoomi stared at your hand before swatting it away as it it were a fly. “The fuck do you mean?” </p><p>“You know what I mean! You have always been one nasty jerk. But, really? You’d stooped so low to insult my mother and your father on their engagement day?!” </p><p>With cold, dead eyes, he stared you down. “First, I don’t give a flying fuck. Second, who the fuck do you think you are storming towards me like you’re Rambo?” </p><p>You ignored all his repugnant reiteration and pushed your body closer to him. He might be towering over you, but you won’t give him another chance to look at you as if you were insignificant. </p><p>None of your parents could straighten Kiyoomi’s bent outlook on the world. You won’t even try. He thought of himself as some sort of an angry god. You were here to remind him that he was flesh and blood just like everyone else. </p><p>“The next time you disrespect anyone of them, remember this: I will fight you myself.” </p><p>His eyes shifted, then he forced a laugh before grabbing your chin. You didn’t push him away. He doesn’t scare you. </p><p>“Fight me? I hate to burst your bubble but let me remind you: You fucking can’t. You don’t know how.” His grip tightened. “So you might want to tone down the death glares if you don’t want me fucking you up, li’l sis.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. TOY</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Same bullshit, different day. I was manspreading on my velvet sofa, joint between my fingers. My, because everything that the eyes could see belongs to me. </p><p>In this house. In this city. </p><p>I just had to wait for Kento Sakusa to finally meet the devil so I could inherit all of the shit he has poured himself in working on. </p><p>That was the initial plan. Before everything shattered like a mirror in front of me as my own father punched the glass. </p><p>Engagement, huh? The fuck does that even mean? Do couples still do that bullshit? I’d never know. But when Clare lifted her hand to show us her ring, perhaps love still existed. So does tragedy. </p><p>My dad, Clare, and even that feisty Y/N treat each other like family. They forgot one thing, though: in the story, I was their catastrophe. If I’m not happy, no one could. </p><p>“Omi,” the girl on my lap cooed, pushing her chest towards mine to sandwich her silicone breast between us. She looked at me with those eyes: eyes that asked me to fuck her in all positions known to man. </p><p>I sipped on my joint, too high to get a boner. It ain’t happening to me tonight, but I could throw this chick towards Atsumu. Speaking of the fucker, it’s been minutes since he arrived here at this party. He hasn’t jumped his dick to a pussyhole yet. </p><p>“Sorry, Olivia, my dick can’t stand.” I stood up, letting her drop on the floor with a shriek. I needed some booze because fuck, I was stressed. About this house, the engagement, and everything. </p><p>Frowning, she picked herself up. “It’s Samantha, Omi.” </p><p>The muffled EDM songs filtrating the mini-bar went past my ear. Everyone was enjoying themselves outside. Getting drunk. Fucking. And I don’t give a damn. They could burn this house for all I care. </p><p>“Miya,” I called before drinking from my glass. </p><p>“Hm?” He raised a brow, not lifting his face from his phone. </p><p>“What the hell’s wrong with you?” </p><p>Still glued to his screen, he chuckled. “What d’ya mean, man?” </p><p>“He meant why haven’t you buried your cock in someone else’s pussy yet,” Suna chided in, voicing my question. He lit another joint, clouds of smoke covering his face. </p><p>Atsumu glared, as if Suna told him he’d fucked his mother. “Jesus, that’s disgusting.” </p><p>What the fuck? I laughed sardonically. “Are you waiting for someone’s pussy, Miya? The last time I checked, it’s the pussy that waited.” </p><p>Atsumu stood up, spinning his phone. A stupid grin on his face. “This chick’s different. And she’s here.” </p><p>Lifting a brow, I tried to read his face. I couldn’t. But when the door of the bar room opened, I almost grabbed his collar and strangled him. Almost. </p><p>When I saw her, everyone disappeared. I couldn’t hear any noise. Couldn’t see anybody but her. It made my blood boil. Were they fucking? </p><p>“You bumping uglies?” Suna once again asked, nudging Atsumu’s ribs. </p><p>I saw her eyes widened at the question. Too crude for her innocent ears, huh? </p><p>“The fuck are you doing here, Y/N?” Finally, my voice came back. It’s even colder than before. </p><p>As a straight-A student, Y/N rarely indulge in parties. Especially my parties. She always kept herself locked up in their— my— house, studying until her eyes bleed as the booming speakers from the yard blew everything she had read from her reviewers. </p><p>Venturing here just to meet Atsumu spoke volumes. </p><p>“I’m not staying,” she answered immediately. The wanting to get away from me as much as possible was clear on her face. Good for her. </p><p>“Thank fuck,” I shot back. I didn’t want her near me. I didn’t want her in my vicinity. Fuck, I didn’t want her in my life but I needed a new plan for that. </p><p>“Really, ‘Tsumu?” Osamu chimed in. </p><p>I didn’t realize he was still there. The asshole has been quiet since he arrived. What now? Was he trying to fuck Y/N, too? When his eyes met mine, I knew why he was so eager to stop his piss-colored hair twin.</p><p>“What?” Atsumu asked, perplexed at our disapproving faces. He snaked an arm around Y/N’s waist and led her outside. </p><p>It took everything in me not to pounce on him. He was ready to die for a piece of pussy? </p><p>They left without a word but the quiet click of the door. I gripped my glass, fighting the urge to toss it to the bar counter. Miya fucking Atsumu, you were dead to me. You and Y/N. </p><p>I drank the contents of my glass and then some until my throat burned before brushing past Osamu. Hissing, I said, “Tell your twin to stop fucking with me, Samu. Or I will.” </p><p>“Relax, man. You know Atsumu. He’s not a loyal dick. They’d probably call things off at the end of the week,” he tried to placate me, even patting my back.</p><p>I didn’t answer. He was going to dump her. That was for certain. I just hoped, not for my sake but his, that he’d leave her hymen intact. She wasn’t anyone else to play with but mine. Alone. </p><p>I sat on one of the couches overlooking the backyard. Where students in their swimming trunks and swimsuits littered across the pool. Tapping my lap, I motioned for the girl I dumped earlier to come to me. “You, Olivia, get your ass here.” </p><p>“It’s Samantha,” she corrected. With a salacious smirk, she sauntered up to me and more than willingly knelt between my thighs. Eagerly fumbling for my zippers. She had my cock in her mouth in a blink. </p><p>I pushed the joint between my lips and dragged, mind clouded. She bobbed her head up and down, spitting on my dick then choking herself with it. </p><p>What a bore. </p><p>Suna whistled while scrolling through his phone. I could see his reflection on the glass. “Someone’s in denial,” he sing-songed.</p><p>“Suna,” Osamu bit out, afraid that I might snap and pounce on whoever caught my sight first. </p><p>I didn’t give two shits about what he meant. What was important were the people outside. Most of the students looked up to see me getting a blowjob from a girl I couldn’t be bothered to memorize the name. </p><p>The sight wasn’t new to them. And their reactions were the same. Awe. Pure, utter awe. In their eyes, I was a king. I was fucked up, but they liked my kind of fucked up.</p><p>These stupid students couldn’t get my name out their filthy mouths. So I always give them something to talk about. </p><p>A bunch of plastics, that was why they drool at my truth.</p><p>No one has the balls to get in my way. So it was a downer that Atsumu Miya did. </p><p>“Fuck this shit,” I muttered, standing up. Olivia tumbled back on the floor, saliva coating the skin around her mouth. My dick was still limping. It didn’t got up but she took it in her mouth nonetheless. </p><p>“What the hell is your problem?!” she screamed at last. Probably fed up by me letting her fall down. </p><p>Running a hand through my locks, I smiled. Eyes dead. “Sorry, sweets. Leave your number on the counter. Might call you later,” I lied. Of course I wouldn’t. The head game was strong but a blowjob wasn’t what I needed right now. </p><p>The lust in her eyes came back as she hurried outside to search for a piece of paper. She knew I wouldn’t let her touch my phone. I don’t even touch the device myself. </p><p>“Atsumu’s probably trolling,” Osamu sighed, exasperated. </p><p>Still jaded, I lit another joint. Clouds of old yet redolent scent filled my nostrils as I puffed.</p><p>At this point, I was too stoned to decipher Osamu’s words. All I could feel was the tightening in my chest— that same feeling whenever I see her face. </p><p>Remembering Atsumu’s grin when she finally showed up, that kind of smile was something else. The fucker liked her. It took all I had to not lose my shit and break things like a fucking baby. </p><p>Sitting, I kept dragging and puffing. Osamu looked at me with suspicion. Out of the four of us, he was the one that had some decency left in him. Although he’s fucked too many girls in the same chair he was sitting on, he still was the nicest dude when it comes to them. People in general. </p><p>“Is her pussy made of gold?” I propped my leg over the other, spreading my arm on the head of the couch. I knew the answer to that question even though I hadn’t tasted it. Yet. </p><p>“Jesus Christ, Sakusa,” Suna gasped mockingly. Grabbing the ass of her chick as she kept on fake-moaning like a porno star. “She’s your goddamned step-sister.” </p><p>“You think so?” I looked up at the ceiling, my mind hazy. Step-sister, huh? Would she still be after I fucked her up real good? </p><p>“Besides, it’s Atsumu. The bastard’s not up for any serious relationships,” Suna added, the tits of the girl bouncing on his dick brushing his cheek. </p><p>“Calm your balls now, Omi,” Osamu quipped. “You don’t stand a chance to Y/N either. Your dad and her mom’s fucking engaged. Don’t let the girl drag us to dirt.”</p><p>I don’t give a fuck. I don’t give a fuck about the engagement. I don’t give a fuck about Y/N. I don’t give a fuck about her relationship with Atsumu. But they were missing a few strings here, these two assholes with me. </p><p>I leaned, resting my elbows on my knees. “From the start, that pesky little sister is mine to fuck with. Alone.”</p><p>I stood up, ready to conquer the night again. “If that asshole decided to fuck her to hell, that’s his hill to die on. But you’re clearly missing out a few pieces here. When something belongs to me, do I share it? I fucking don’t.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Deadline</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The night after the engagement party, Kiyoomi threw a balls-out party in their mansion. You wondered why Kento let his son host yet another dirty party that would have the neighbors sending petitions tomorrow. But when you found out that Kento flew to another city for business, you understood. </p><p>It wasn’t as if Kento could do anything against his son’s parties, though. Kiyoomi never listened to his father.<br/>That night, too, you have totally shunned away your reviewers. With the loud speakers from the mansion, studying wasn’t worth considering. </p><p>Only God knows how your mother could sleep through all the ruckus. </p><p>Speaking of which, upon your arrival back in your own house yesternight, your mother sat with you in the living room. She’d asked how you feel about the revelation. </p><p>You have seen it coming. But the acrid taste of it never left your tongue. You couldn’t even pin-point why. </p><p>Kento was a good man. You knew, from the way he seemed to devote himself to your mother, that he was hellbent to make her his wife. He loved her. That much was evident by the way he treated her and you. Still, and even though your father has been MIA since you were born, you couldn’t seem to replace his position in your life. </p><p>What good would it do if you’d be honest to your mother? It wouldn’t seem as though your feelings could stop their marriage, right? On top of it all, you weren’t going to prod them with your own selfish desires. </p><p>In the deepest part of you, you were still confused. Were you hesitant about their engagement because of your father? Or because of someone else entirely? Were you irresolute because of Kiyoomi Sakusa? </p><p>Before you retired into bed, you held her hand and watched the diamond worthy to support half of the people in this city shone in her ring finger. Kiyoomi was right. You didn’t take your mother as one to prefer diamonds either.</p><p>But it was there. And it wrapped perfectly in her finger. So you hugged her tightly and told her you’d be with her every step of the way. </p><p>“Earth to Y/N?” A virile voice echoed beside you. <br/>You blinked, remembering that you were with Atsumu Miya. Turning your attention towards the smiling boy, you whispered an apology. </p><p>“What are you thinking about?” he prodded, leaning closer to you. </p><p>He wanted to kiss you. And you wouldn’t lie that you wanted to feel his lips, too. Atsumu Miya hasn’t been anything but sweet to you so far. Albeit having a record of someone who had already done half the girl’s population of Redlands, he was surprisingly persistent and fun to be with. </p><p>It’s been minutes since you departed the Sakusa mansion. You didn’t go anywhere, though. Just sat in one of the swings near the mansion. Atsumu ordered some food for you to eat, which you finished under the moon. It was simple. It was sweet. </p><p>He’d asked if you wanted to eat somewhere else— in a fancy restaurant perhaps or in one of those twenty-four hour food chains— but you refused. It’s already deep in the night. </p><p>Him, flirting with you was a story full of plot holes. Sometimes, you thought that he was only bluffing. Sometimes, you even imagined the worst. And that this was merely a jest chalked out by none other than the devil, Kiyoomi Sakusa. </p><p>When you pondered about it, it wasn’t far-fetched. Kiyoomi was born to lay chaos in your life. He’d do anything to hurt you. Will never be content even if he did. </p><p>“Nothing,” you finally answered the blonde before letting him touch your cheek and kiss your lips lightly. </p><p>Under the moon, Atsumu Miya smiled against your lips before sealing it again with a kiss. This time, it was deeper than the last. Hungrier. You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to exude just as much dominance as his.</p><p>Atsumu’s kisses were wet. They were dripping with wanting. Coated with sugary promises that one of these days, he would make you his. </p><p>It was perfect. You were both breathless when you pulled away. Idiot smiles plastered on both your lips. </p><p>“I wish you’re my soulmate,” he blurted out, eyes penetrating your soul. </p><p>Still drunk from the kiss, you smiled wider. “Yeah. I hope so, too.” </p><p>Atsumu’s soulmate mark has already manifested the day after he turned eighteen. It was a set of number written on his wrist, to where his pulse beat. He assumed that his soulmate would have the same number.</p><p>“Do you want me to take you home now?” He tangled your hair with his fingers, giving your cheeks open-mouthed kisses. </p><p>Giggling, you pushed on his chest. “But it seems like you don’t want to yet.” </p><p>“Yeah. Was hopin’ that we could move to second base.” </p><p>You forced a laugh at that, masking your disappointment. You do know what you were getting yourself into, because it was Atsumu Miya you were dealing with. </p><p>One of these days, you would lie in bed— hopefully his— and would have sex with him. One of these days, he’d asked you and you’d say yes.</p><p>“Forget your second base for a while, Miya,” you teased, pushing his lips away. “Don’t you wanna come back to the party?” </p><p>“I do but, will you be okay?” </p><p>Concern danced in his brown irises. They were privy of Kiyoomi’s hatred against you. Because the devil doesn’t stop torturing you even at school. Everyone knew he hated you. </p><p>“Of course, silly.” </p><p>You have spotted a few of your friends in the mansion earlier. If Kiyoomi would fail to see you, you’d be good. Even though he seemed like a dog that could smell your scent from a mile away. </p><p>Hand to hand, you went back to the mansion. Once again, the packed activity of the teenagers overwhelmed your senses. There were couples kissing in the dark and in the light for everyone to see. Somewhere even grinding on each other in the hallways. </p><p>Alcohol kept pouring. Smokes from blunts making the atmosphere foggy. You fanned away the thin layer of smoke as you made your way to the kitchen. </p><p>“Here.” Atsumu extended his hand to offer you a juice drink. <br/>You still weren’t legally allowed to drink, so that was why. You muttered a silent thanks before sitting with him in the corner of the living room. Surprisingly, the center of activity was in the backyard. Where the pool was located. </p><p>The peace was short-lived when Osamu Miya, Atsumu’s timid twin came down from the bar room and spotted the two of you. </p><p>He went straight to his twin, gritting his teeth. “You’re such a fucking idiot.” </p><p>You blinked, confused at the sudden agitation painted in Osamu’s face as he glanced at you. </p><p>Atsumu, being the hot-headed one, sized his twin up. Nose to nose, he muttered, “Tell Omi to stop fucking with me. He’s out of the line.” </p><p>Osamu looked as though he was going to rip all of his hair, or punch his twin ‘til he lost all his teeth. There was no in between. “That’s what he told me to tell you. What’s gotten into your head, ‘Tsumu?” </p><p>“Atsumu, Osamu, please—”</p><p>“Miya motherfucking Atsumu,” Kiyoomi bellowed as he descended the stairs. He was clutching a beer bottle in his hand, eyes never leaving yours as he walked languidly towards you, parting the group of students partying as if he was Moses. </p><p>Uh-oh. </p><p>He kept toying Atsumu with the mischief in his eyes. Atsumu glared as a rebuff. Then Omi flipped him with his middle finger. “Stop this shit before I fuck you up, Miya.” </p><p>Shy of a few inches, Atsumu still held Omi’s stare. “Oh, is this brotherly affection I’m witnessing, Sakusa?” </p><p>Few of the students gathered in the living room stopped what they were doing to eavesdrop. This was Kiyoomi’s kind of night. But this wasn’t yours. </p><p>“Atsumu, Omi, please. Whatever your issues are, talk about it calmly. There is no need to fight,” you chimed in. </p><p>Not sparing you a glance, Omi gritted, “Shut the fuck up.” </p><p>“You better go, Y/N,” Osamu hissed at your direction. </p><p>“Why? I’m with Atsumu. I’m not even bothering you guys.” <br/>Osamu threw you a look before attempting to push the two boys away before they claw at each other’s throats. Which would happen any minute soon, you supposed. </p><p>“Eat shit.” Kiyoomi tilted his head to the side. “You wanna die because of this, Miya? Just say the word.” Omi chuckled, pushing towards Atsumu once more. </p><p>Suna appeared, prying Omi away from the blonde. “Dude, we still could talk about this.” </p><p>“You don’t fucking own shit, Omi. Don’t act so tough when you’re still hiding behind your papa’s money,” Atsumu spat. </p><p>Oh, no. Oh, no. He didn’t. He didn’t say it. It was a forbidden insult. One that Omi wouldn’t take lightly. And he didn’t. The beer bottle crashed as Kiyoomi pounced on Atsumu. </p><p>You swallowed a shriek. Forgot how to shriek as Atsumu tumbled over, with Kiyoomi sitting on his stomach to rain punches on his face. </p><p>Suna pried him away. But he was bigger than anyone of them. </p><p>“Goddamnit, man! Stop!” Osamu yelled, helping his twin get  on his feet. </p><p>You were utterly nailed in your position. Mouth almost hanging open. You should help. Should put a stop to Omi’s bat-shit madness. But you couldn’t move. Moving felt as though digging your one foot in the grave. </p><p>Atsumu wanted to get back to Omi, but Osamu had locked him in place. </p><p>“Atsumu—”</p><p>A grip woke you up from all the chaos. You looked up to see the owner of the hand. Kiyoomi. And boy, he was mad. </p><p>“Let me go,” you hissed, trying to wriggle yourself free. </p><p>“Break it up with him. Now.” </p><p>God. His superiority complex was triggering your gag reflex. </p><p>“Why would I do that?!” </p><p>Omi failed to answer because Atsumu jumped on him after tricking Osamu that he’d behaved. </p><p>You hissed as you fell on your butt by the attack. Closing your eyes, you could feel yourself nearing your limit. Fuck boys. </p><p>“You know what?!” you yelled at the both of them, “I’m out. I’m done. If you wanna kill each other, do it! But count me out of this stupidity!” </p><p>With that, you stormed out of the Sakusas’ mansion and ran your way back to your two-storey house. </p><p>You were fuming mad. What was that? Two legal boys fighting for what, exactly? It was almost embarrassing if you didn’t know the both of them. </p><p>When you slammed your door closed, the picture frames rattled. You immediately regretted the impact you have put on flinging it shut.</p><p>Not bothering to slide off of your sneakers, you jumped on the bed and closed your eyes. This night has been exhausting but you couldn’t seem to find sleep. With all that has happened, you doubt you would dive into dreamland anytime sooner. </p><p>Several dings pulled your attention to your phone, which vibrated in your pocket. You fished it out to see Atsumu’s name on the screen. </p><p>Atsumu: Y/N, I’m sorry. <br/>Atsumu: We’re cool, right? <br/>Atsumu: I promise I won’t punch your brother again. <br/>Atsumu: Hope you sleep well, angel. I had fun. </p><p>“It wasn’t about you punching my brother, Atsumu,” you whispered, the word ‘brother’ pinching your tongue. <br/>You turned off your phone and stood up to wash yourself when the doorknob from your room rattled. As if a person was trying to open it and failed. </p><p>Immediately, your breath hitched. If it was your mother, she would’ve knocked. Not push her way through. And who in hell would attempt to ruin your night for the last time, right? Other than him. </p><p>“Open this shit up before I burn it down, Y/N.” The tone wasn’t less authoritative. He knew he owned the building. That was why he came barging in without a care as to how you would feel. </p><p>“Go to sleep, Omi!” you shouted, disentangling the shoelaces of your sneakers when you heard a loud bam. You jolted, eyes wide. “What the hell?!” </p><p>“Hell?” he snickered, “Yeah. It’d be if you don’t open this goddamn door.” </p><p>You hated him. So much. You could feel your stomach recoil at the sound of his voice. You hated him with an extra passion and you hated yourself back for caving in whenever he does this to you: barging in your life, ruining your peace. </p><p>“What do you want?!” you hissed, mindful of your voice. You wouldn’t want to wake up your mother just for her to witness her future step-son in your threshold. </p><p>Omi didn’t waste time for pleasantries as he moved forward. Inviting himself inside your room. “You know what I want.” </p><p>“This is trespassing, if you don’t realize it yet. And no, I don’t have any idea what you want,” you deadpanned. </p><p>The fucker only moved closer to you until you were left with no choice but to step back. “I own this building, Y/N. Legally.” </p><p>You pressed your mouth in a thin line. The sad part was, it was true. Omi, indeed, owned the building. It was his way before you moved out. </p><p>“And now, what? Just because you own this building doesn’t mean—”</p><p>“It meant I could fucking stroll in here whenever I want.”</p><p>So close. Too close. The cold wall welcomed your back as you pressed against it. Kiyoomi Sakusa once again cornered you. With his body, with his words, with his god forsaken authority. </p><p>“This is the last time I’m telling you this, the shit you have with Atsumu, break it off.” </p><p>It was concise. And dripping with a whole lot of threat. After all, Kiyoomi wasn’t Kiyoomi if his words weren’t venomous. </p><p>“You can’t tell me what to do, Omi,” you replied, voice a little lower than what you would prefer. </p><p>Omi merely looked at you with those depthless eyes. Even though the lights were off, you could see how hateful they were. “Damn right, I can. And you don’t have any choice either.” He turned on his back and began walking away. </p><p>You didn’t know what came to you. Frustration? Anger? That this boy, this six-foot-tall boy seemed to think that he owned you. That he could order you around. That he could take away your choices from you. </p><p>You breathed and said the last thing Kiyoomi Sakusa would appreciate. “He makes me happy. And he’s going to be my boyfriend. Keep your brotherly instincts to yourself until our parents exchange I do’s.” </p><p>The following scenes were a blur. Kiyoomi turned to face you again, his face giving away the words ‘The fuck did I just hear?’. Your back collided against the wall once more, as he sealed your lips with a scorching kiss.</p><p>Not in a million years would you see it coming. Him, kissing you, with enough fervor to burn down not only the whole house, but the whole village, too. Kiyoomi sucked the life out of you with how feral his kisses were. </p><p>You weren’t touching each other, but your bodies were flushed to the point of crushing. </p><p>It wasn’t gentle. Very Kiyoomi Sakusa. But it was... warm. His kisses were the right kind of kiss. As if it placed you right where you should have been. The kiss obliterated your chance to think. Erased all the strength in your body. Flew you to that kind of unforgettable bliss. </p><p>Emptiness straight away cocooned you when he pulled away an inch from your face. </p><p>“I know you want to kiss me back. So fucking much your thighs are clenching right below me. Cut the bullshit with Atsumu,” he gnashed.</p><p>This was a mistake. Aside from the fact that you were future siblings, you were on the verge of dating his friend, too. No matter how your body reacted to this kiss, and albeit not kissing him back, it felt wrong somehow. </p><p>“Why do you want to break us apart so bad?” you murmured, eyes on his perfect collarbones. If he could give a sensible reason, you might reconsider Atsumu. They were friends. Kiyoomi would know if Atsumu poses a threat to your heart.</p><p>You could feel his breath against your lips. Could smell the liquor and the hint of mint. “Because I want to fuck you. Watch your face while I do it. And I’m not sharing with that fucker Atsumu.” He said the words in a manner so bold you felt like he stripped you off your clothes. </p><p>Anger like you have never felt before shot up in your nerves. Before you could think about the consequences, you slapped him. Hard. </p><p>Kiyoomi Sakusa staggered a step, head turned to the side with his tongue sticking to the insides of his cheek. </p><p>“Go away, Omi,” you nearly shouted. </p><p>He ran a frustrated hand through his raven-colored hair. Against the moonlight infiltrating your windows, Kiyoomi looked at you dead in the eyes. “Lame attempt to make me think you’re not as wet as a fucking river, huh?” </p><p>“Go away—!”</p><p>“In front of me, you’re going to tell Atsumu that you want nothing to do with his sorry ass. So sleep well, li’l sis. You’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”</p><p>Then he left. Slamming the door behind him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Car Keys</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two weeks since the engagement. And two weeks since Y/N decided to cut things off with Atsumu. In the school cafeteria, where I could see her break the news to him. I’ve allowed her not to do it in front of me, recognizing I’ve tormented her enough to spare her that one order. </p><p>I didn’t know if Atsumu knew I was the one who told Y/N to break it off with him. And I didn’t care.</p><p>She was easy to caved in towards my desires. Below her pristine morality, she knew she wanted me, too. Though she hadn’t realized it yet. </p><p>Everything was going my way. Since when did it not, anyways? It’s my way or the highway, after all. </p><p>Everytime I saw her around the hallways, she was either looking away or glaring at me. The latter made my cock swell for times that I couldn’t count. But all I’ve answered her were glares of my own. She hasn’t done anything yet to make me acknowledge that her eyes alone could get me a fucking boner. </p><p>I was irrational and immature. Some would even say I was a sociopath by the way I reacted to Y/N’s and Atsumu’s fling. The only reason my teammates, the fuckers in this school, and the piss-colored hair Miya doubted me less was because of the impending marriage of my father to Clare. </p><p>They thought I was protecting Y/N against Atsumu’s unsteady dick since I was going to be her brother soon. Fuck them and their conclusions.</p><p>She was mine the first time Kento Sakusa introduced her to me. I meant, her eyes told me she belonged to me. With the way her pupils begged me to bend her over the very table we were eating dinner on that night.</p><p>The girl stared at me for five-minutes straight. Stole glances at me then gulped after. And I wasn’t fucking around. She looked at me. Assessed me from head to toe. Probably thinking about the size of my dick with the height that I had.<br/>Right then, I swore that if I couldn’t have the girl, no one else could. </p><p>Atsumu and I weren’t on speaking terms at all. We only speak to each other whenever we practice. Which almost sets the whole court on fire. </p><p>The asshole knew how to piss me off. And by that, he was refusing me tons and tons of good sets. I couldn’t hit the damn volleyball. </p><p>I drank all my bottles of patience. I did. But when I flicked my wrist, expecting to hit the ball perfectly, it landed right in front of my face to my side. </p><p>I shot him a look. One too familiar to every fucking cock in this court. “Your sets suck ass, Miya.” </p><p>If this fucker would siphon me off my limits, I’d make sure to bring him down with me. </p><p>Instead of attacking me like he normally would’ve, Atsumu snickered. As if he was gloating. “Anyone who couldn’t hit my sets are the ones who sucks, Sakusa.” </p><p>“Nobody‘s hit your sets today, asshole. That means you’re nothing but a load of crap. Get the fuck off your high horse before I drag you out of it.” </p><p>I saw Osamu and Rintaro stalking towards us. Tired expressions on their faces. Definitely fed up by our bullshit. Coach was standing there as well, watching his best players size each other up.</p><p>Thing was, I was good at volleyball. Excellent, even. I owned the court every goddamn time I was in it. I was a baller. And that wasn’t me being a pompous ass. It’s the truth. Everyone knew it.</p><p>As much as I would rather fuck a horse than admit it, Atsumu was good in the game as well. You wouldn’t find anyone as precise as him. The worse thing? The fuckwit was aware of his skills, too. </p><p>“Please, you wouldn’t be able to do shit if not for my sets,” he scoffed.</p><p>We were nose to nose now. Again. It’s two times this month. And it’s all because of Y/N’s pussy. I’ve never tasted it yet but it owned me like this already. </p><p>“And you’d be as good as nothing if not for me. In general,” I pinned.</p><p>Finally, his mouth twisted to that contemptible smile I knew so well. Out of the four of us, Atsumu and I had the tendency to kill each other like two soldiers in the opposite sides of the trenches. We were brothers, yes. We treat each other as one. But the shit he pulled in my mansion weeks ago declared war. And I always come equipped. </p><p>His hand came up to my collar. Squeezing tightly. We looked at each other’s eyes like we were born to kill one another. </p><p>Then Coach bellowed from the side of the court, “You wanna kill each other boys?! Then do us a favor and get out of this court before I terminate both of you with flying colors.” <br/>That made Atsumu let go. I wouldn’t have. But the sound of termination rang in my ears even though I didn’t want it too. <br/>Coach was hardened. Had been hardened. He knew what he was dealing with when he accepted us fuckers in the team. I didn’t doubt that he would kick us out if we won’t stop coming at each other’s throats.</p><p>Volleyball was what made my life a little less miserable. I usually didn’t give a shit. But hell, I wanted this game. My mom used to play, too. I didn’t want to let go of the one thing that still connected us although it meant I couldn’t punch Atsumu’s face until he needed a new one to replace it. </p><p>Atsumu and I didn’t talk the whole practice after that. Though, his sets got better as well as my attacks. </p><p>“You know the drill, boys. For the love of God, try not to consume any intoxicants until the competition,” Coach roared, looking down at us as if he would squeeze our balls so tight our future children would come out scrambled if we dared disobey him.</p><p>I sat on the wooden floor, feeling like absolute shit. I guessed I was really a walking contradiction. No intoxicants? Who fucking knows how long I could hold myself. My second personality lies in the idea of hard liquor and blunt. First is being an absolute shitfuck of an asshole. Both things not needed in volleyball.</p><p>Rintaro leaned back on his arms beside me, a grim expression on his face. This fucker couldn’t function without at least hitting on a blunt every hour of every day. At least, I knew there was someone out there having it worse than me. <br/>The practice was wrapped up and everybody finally left the court. Aside from me. </p><p>I always stay up late in here, bribing the security guards. Why? Well, I wouldn’t want to run into my great father in the house. The mansion was big but we still somehow ended up seeing each other at least once a day. Which was fucking depressing, to be very honest. </p><p>I did my usual routine. Spiked some balls. Did push-ups. Sit ups. Everything.</p><p>Until the door opened. </p><p>My eyes automatically turned into slits. </p><p>“Hundred bucks isn’t enough?” I said in a flat tone, referring to the security guard I gave a backhander earlier. I wouldn’t mind throwing another, but if he would keep interrupting me then I might as well go home and have my dick shoved down some chick’s throat.</p><p>“Omi.” <br/>When I heard her voice, the ball I was holding nearly slipped from my hands. And I hated it. I fucking loathed the thought of it. </p><p>“Go the fuck home, Y/N. I don’t have any time for you.” I tossed the ball and spiked, releasing the tension in me. </p><p>My back was turned against her. The single light from outside magnifying her shadow. And she was walking towards me by the movement of it. </p><p>“I was gonna go home, but heard noise from outside. Why are you still here?” she asked, her voice coated with nothing but pure curiosity. </p><p>I didn’t want to be an asshole. But that was all I was. So I turned my attention towards her and said, “Don’t attempt small talk. I don’t do that shit. Especially not with you.” </p><p>I wanted to ask her the same, but knew she was probably doing some school org bullshit that would make my ears bleed.</p><p>Her pretty lips breathed a sigh. She’s as exasperated with me as I was with her. “I was just gonna say that the kiss—” she faltered. </p><p>I raised a brow. “What? You want another one? We could do more than just kissing here, you—”</p><p>“It didn’t mean anything, alright?” she finished.</p><p>I felt my fingers digging in the ball. My teeth grinding. Left eye ticking. “First, what kind of balls do you have to interrupt me? Second, what the fuck did I just hear?” </p><p>She flew her arms to the air. “I said the kiss didn’t mean anything. So it’s best to just forget it—”</p><p>“Of course, it didn’t. Get over yourself, Y/N. I was drunk and you’re not my type.” </p><p>I saw her lips thinning, nose flaring. What now? She shot me with a bullet and didn’t expect me to fire back? </p><p>I was drunk, yes. But kissing her was of my own volition. I would’ve done it again if I was stone-cold sober. And hearing her say it didn’t mean anything made me want to go on a killing spree or some shit. </p><p>What a fucking liar. </p><p>The way she emitted this kind of heat around me told me she loved every second of that kiss. The way she balled her hands into fists to stop herself from pulling me closer proved that she wanted me just as much as I wanted her. </p><p>“Well? You can get the fuck out of my sight now,” I said, dribbling the ball. </p><p>She didn’t move. Although my voice dripped with annoyance and threat. She still didn’t get the hint to move her ass out of the court. </p><p>“There’s one more thing,” she mumbled. “You’re not serious when you told me you wanna fuck me, right?” </p><p>Jesus fucking Christ. The way the word ‘fuck’ that went past her lips flowed in my ears down to the tip of my cock made me crazy with lust. </p><p>“I was serious,” I deadpanned. “I’m going to fuck you so hard it’s the only thing you’ll think about as you live.” I reached her with three steps. Y/N didn’t flinch as I stood in front of her. </p><p>“You disgust me. You know that, right?” Her voice was venom, but I’d be damned not to drink it to the last drop. </p><p>I found myself chuckling at that. She’s so feisty. Good. I like my girls with a fight. “Yeah, I do. And you loved my kind of disgusting. You can say no, but your eyes tells me otherwise. Y/N, you wanna ride my dick as much as I want you on top of me.” </p><p>She gulped. That’s how I knew I’d got her. For the nth time. She was fighting this. Fighting her need. Fighting the lust that seemed to blanket us both. I knew why. </p><p>“You’re one delusional motherfucker, too. Tell me, was that because of the molly that you seemed to take as if it’s your lifeline or there’s something fucked up in your brain?” she gritted out, almost breathless when she finished. </p><p>It took everything in me not to fuck her, in breeding position, right on the floor where I practice every day. “Keep talking and we’ll find out.”</p><p>She scoffed, raising one of her brow up at me. “I’m not interested.” </p><p>“You will be.” </p><p>“In your dreams.” </p><p>Fuck. I was so goddamn hard it’s a miracle how my dick wasn’t peeking out of my waistband yet. </p><p>“Listen, one of these days, we’re going to fuck. Don’t worry, I’m not doing it unless you beg me to. And you will beg. Soon.” </p><p>That was it. I turned my back against her. Left the littered volleyballs on the floor. And made my way towards the lockers.</p><p>I’ve attempted to scroll down my phonebook, searching for some pussy tonight. I knew I had tons of choices, but they didn’t fit right.</p><p>I threw a towel in my shoulder, carrying my duffel bag to the showers. When I noticed that it’s already nine p.m., I halted. Nine p.m. and Y/N’s alone, walking towards the bus stop. </p><p>The fuck do I care? I wasn’t his father. No matter how much I wanted her to call me daddy. In bed. Eyes tear-stained with overstimulation. Because of me. </p><p>Groaning, I ran a hand through my hair. I didn’t need to do it. She could go home by herself. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know how. </p><p>I cursed at myself so bad my own fucking soul was ashamed of me. Because I fished for my keys. Deliberately forgot the idea of showering. And ran towards the parking lot. That small, feeble part of me I wanted to punch lifeless was hoping I could catch up to her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Sex Pistols</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two weeks ago, you took the greatest risk of your life: defying the mighty and intolerable Kiyoomi Sakusa. </p><p>After his apparent trespassing on your bedroom, his unexpected claiming of your lips, and his brazen statement that he wanted to fuck you, none of you have talked about any of that yet. </p><p>It wasn’t as though he had given you any chance to. </p><p>Everyone around you was clueless of what transpired that night. There was no point telling your mom. She’d only worry and make a big fuss about it. You’d rather forget about the way his lips felt perfect against yours than brood over the sensation. In the end, it would be pointless to succumb to the warmth of it. </p><p>He didn’t talk to you after that night. But the threat to break your fling with Atsumu hung heavy between you whenever you see him dominating the hallways with his three friends once again. </p><p>You didn’t want to do it. Simply because Atsumu hasn’t given you any reason to hurt him. It was all Kiyoomi’s unpleasant and ridiculous command. You just didn’t understand why. Why was he eager to make you suffer? To make everyone around him be racked in pain? </p><p>Instead of trying to sympathize with his unreasonable indifference to the world, you devised a plan that could either bite you back or completely keep out Kiyoomi Sakusa from your life. The latter seemed impossible since he would surely be your family after your parents tied the knots. But it was worth the try. Or so you thought.</p><p>“You’re telling me that we have to pretend we’ve already called it quits between us?” Atsumu clenched his teeth, rage masking his usual jester  look after telling him what Kiyoomi commanded you to accomplish. You decided to leave out the part where he told he’d fucked you. There was no reason to tell Atsumu. </p><p>You were behind the main building in Redlands, away from prying eyes and definitely out of Kiyoomi’s sight. “So, are you in?” you asked him, biting your lower lip after. </p><p>“I know the fucker’s crazy. But this?” he exhaled, “He clearly doesn’t have any leverage to do this shit to you. You are your own person, Y/N.” </p><p>“Yeah, I know. But if there’s someone out there who knew him, it’d be you. Kiyoomi won’t stop not unless he gets what he wants.” </p><p>Atsumu ran a hand through his blonde tresses, hate and disapproval still dominating his features. “I could talk to him. I could even fuck him up for you.” </p><p>With that, you chuckled lightly. “Thanks, but no thanks. I can manage.” </p><p>“You sure?” Atsumu asked, his face crumbling down to pure solicitude. “Until when do we have to pretend, though?” </p><p>Holding his arm softly, you gave him a small smile. “I am sure. And we have to do this until graduation, at least.” </p><p>Were you being unfair by giving off a hint of false hope for Atsumu? None of you knew what would happen after graduation. And your soulmate marks haven’t yet manifested. What if Atsumu wasn’t your soulmate in the end? </p><p>Sure, you could bend the rules and neglect your soulmate entirely to be with him. But how could you act so certain that you’d end up together? When deep inside, a huge lump of unpredictability clogged your system?</p><p>Soulmate marks could be spontaneous. It could be scary, too. </p><p>Nonetheless, you still wanted to try. Try something with Atsumu. Because if you won’t, you’d never run away from that blooming thing in your chest whenever you see Kiyoomi. </p><p>You have to put a stop to this madness before it would have the hand to destroy you. </p><p>Now you walked in the sideways towards the exit gates of the Institute. Brisk wind caressing your body. <br/>It was nine p.m.. And you would’ve gone home sooner if only you didn’t push open the doors of the volleyball court and tangoed with Kiyoomi using insults and provocative words. </p><p>Some would think that boys like him didn’t have anything they were passionate about. He was crass, showing negative zero attention towards the world. But you were certain he was infatuated with something. And that something was volleyball. </p><p>Quick-witted, Kiyoomi did excel in the game. His fast reflexes and techniques were pronounced whenever he was inside the court. A monster, Redlands’s publication would dub him every time they win yet another game.</p><p>As much as you wanted to dodge reality, you couldn’t put away the times you stood amongst the crowd, clapping your hands and cheering in your own way whenever they competed. </p><p>Kiyoomi had never seen you, though. Much to your favor. If he ever found you lingering in the throng of students cheering for them, you could easily lie that you came because of Atsumu.</p><p>Deep in thought, you were jolted awake by the loud beeping of a car. </p><p>You were on the sidewalk. Who could be the pompous ass honking at you as if you were standing naked on the driveway? </p><p>You turned your attention towards the honking, ready to flip your finger and shout at whoever it was. But came in an abrupt stop as the car halted. Its door opening like a bird spreading its wing, revealing Kiyoomi Sakusa holding the steering wheel with one hand, his other on the gearshift. </p><p>“Hop in,” he muttered, eyes on the road. </p><p>Blinking, you began to walk again, completely ignoring him. Perhaps he had gone quite delusional because of practice. Yet the car followed you still. </p><p>“I said hop in!” he graveled, glaring at you.</p><p>Was he serious? Kiyoomi? Asking you to hop in on his shiny, jet black car? </p><p>Shaking your head, you pulled on your bag strap. “No, thanks.” </p><p>“Once I get out of this car, I’m dragging you inside. So hop in while I’m still being nice, Y/N.” </p><p>There he goes again, throwing threats as if it was a normal thing to do in a conversation. You almost rolled your eyes heavenwards, but decided not to.</p><p>“It’s okay, Omi—”</p><p>“The bus stop will be jam packed by workers now. It’ll take you an hour to get into a bus. And Clare won’t appreciate her daughter in the dead of the night, kicking around at some waiting shed. Hop. In.” </p><p>It was true. Your mother would bombard your phone with missed calls if you failed to come home at ten today. However, looking at Kiyoomi’s car, you felt yourself getting belittled. As if the car hated you, too.</p><p>“Goddamn it, Y/N,” Kiyoomi cursed before the other door swung eighty-degree upwards. </p><p>You pretended not to be impressed. Here in Redlands, you have seen cars worthy of a city. Everyday, the students don’t fail to amaze you with their opulence that it had become normal already. But here he was again, Kiyoomi Sakusa, giving a new meaning to the word luxurious. </p><p>By the crease on his forehead, you knew his threat of dragging you inside was written on a stone already. Sighing, you hopped in on his car before he could stand up from his seat.</p><p>As you sat on the bullet seat, Kiyoomi’s tensed shoulder fell but his frown remained. </p><p>Never did you witness someone riding with him in this car. Not his friends, because they each drove vehicles that had a price tag able to feed the whole country themselves. Not his chicks, too. Certainly not them. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but you felt a sliver of joy at that.</p><p>Nevertheless, you couldn’t breathe. Not because it was hard to do so, but because of the intimidation a non-living thing has. Being inside his car was like being slapped hard on the cheek of how rich Kiyoomi truly was. You couldn’t even move of the fear that you might leave a scratch on its interior.</p><p>Kiyoomi drove a Mclaren 720S. You didn’t know what the car name meant. You merely heard them talking about it during discussion. </p><p>That was, indeed, a messy day for the new instructor. You couldn’t help but remember. </p><p>Suna and Kiyoomi were being obnoxiously loud in the back of the class, exchanging different terminologies that you assumed meant for cars. Ferrari, Bugatti, Aston Martin, and the usual foul language dominated their conversation. Until Miss Reina snapped and asked them what was the ruckus about. </p><p>“We’re talking about cars,” Suna replied, almost nonchalantly. </p><p>You saw Atsumu trying not to laugh by covering his mouth with a fist. His twin, Osamu, muttering ‘fucking idiot’ as he shot Suna a glare. </p><p>“Cars?” Miss Reina seethed, dubious of what she heard. </p><p>It was Kiyoomi’s time to answer. He leaned back on his chair, looking straight at the poor instructor. “Yeah. Aside from talking about pussy, we also talk about cars, Miss Reina.” </p><p>You swallowed a gasp while Atsumu slapped a hand to his table, laughing raucously. </p><p>“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu hissed at his twin. <br/>Miss Reina was taken aback by the risqué remark. Her eyes almost falling off from its sockets. “Excuse me, Mr. Sakusa? Pray tell me what’s so important about cars and... female genitals... that you refused to listen to the discussion?” </p><p>Kiyoomi licked his lower lip. “I was trying to schedule an appointment. Gotta buy that Mclaren before some fucker in this school does.” </p><p>Atsumu’s laugh slowly died as he turned sideways to look at Kiyoomi. “Mclaren, what? P1? I thought you’re buying the Chiron?” </p><p>Omi shrugged. “Shit happened. So, I’m buying the 720S instead.” </p><p>You have little to no idea about their conversation. It was clearly not the time and place to care. But these filthy rich teenagers sometimes lacked the basic social cues. Pretended that they didn’t know. </p><p>“That’s interesting, Mr. Sakusa, Mr. Suna, and Mr. Miya,” Miss Reina said, her fingers shaking as she reached for a sheet of paper from her desk. “Perhaps we could discuss cars and how they are related to the fall of Roman Empire later in detention.” </p><p>Silence fell across the room. You waited for a comeback from the idiots behind you, but nothing came. The only noise that could be heard was Miss Reina’s pen as she wrote on the sheet, finishing it with her signature. </p><p>You anticipated some kind of reaction, but the three of them looked totally blasé. As if they found the detention boring. Which it was. But the mischief in their eyes was something else. </p><p>Kiyoomi carried on scrolling through his phone, probably booking to buy his Mclaren. Atsumu yawned and leaned back. While Suna let one of your classmates suck on his thumb. </p><p>There were two kinds of students in Redlands: the rich and the filthy rich. Kiyoomi fell in the latter. While you? You weren’t in the former, not in the latter, and certainly not in between. </p><p>Your decent grades have helped you climb up to the enrolment. The scholarship kept you inside the Institute. </p><p>There were different kinds of rich kids, too. Some were hardworking, some obviously didn’t give a damn about school. Thinking that they could bribe their way towards graduation. Amidst the sea of designer bags and luxurious vehicles, you have made quite a few friends. </p><p>God Save the Queen by the Sex Pistols suddenly played inside the car. By the volume of the stereo, you were told that Kiyoomi didn’t have any plans to engage on a chitchat. </p><p>Too bad. You were thinking that this could be a chance to talk to him about your wranglers. Whatever stain your relationship had, it was better to fix them up before the wedding. Just a little gift for both your parents. </p><p>“What do you think of Nancy and Vicious?” you asked, voice a little higher for him to hear. </p><p>“Do I look like I give a shit about some suicidal couple?” he answered, veering the steering wheel.</p><p>You frowned. Encouraging him to talk unprovoked had never felt so difficult. “Yeah. You do. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have called them suicidal. That means you care about the background of bands you listen to.” You sighed. “Nancy was brave. Only few people could admit that they weren’t born to live. And she was one of them. Makes me think that perhaps life isn’t for everyone.” </p><p>“It isn’t,” he replied, “But some died although they were meant to live.” </p><p>Some instinct told you he was talking about his mother. Kiyoomi was fifteen when she died of a certain illness. According to Kento, his attitude has gone a three-hundred-sixty degree change when she passed away. </p><p>All your life, it was your mother who guided you. You couldn’t imagine a world without her. That was why you sympathize with Kiyoomi albeit not feeling the pain that he had gone through and probably was still going through up to this day. Claiming that you understood his tragedy would be insensitive. </p><p>“Do you think Vicious killed Nancy?” you carried on, watching him take over the wheel as if this car had been made for him alone. </p><p>His face was impassive when he answered, “I don’t give a fuck about a tragic love story fourty years ago, Y/N.” </p><p>He was only being his usual self, dodging a civilized conversation. But it made you joyous in the way that you hated. Here you were, inside Omi’s car, having a conversation with him. Although it wasn’t pleasant, it was a leap. </p><p>“Nancy is for the Sex Pistols, Courtney Love for Nirvana, and Yoko Ono for The Beatles. Fascinating,” you blurted out, mind a bit lost in your own thoughts. <br/>“And you, to us,” he finished. </p><p>You looked at him, expecting for a continuation. None came. “What does that mean?” </p><p>The wheels came into a halt in front of your house. Then the door on your side flew up again. </p><p>“Omi, I do hope we could be friends,” you whispered to him. “We’d be siblings soon, and I want us to have a decent relationship for our parents.” </p><p>His lips tugged up into a smirk. He didn’t look interested at the suggestion. “Your voice makes me sick. Why don’t you put that mouth to good use and suck my dick? Hard.”</p><p>“Why do you always have to answer with a gross comment?” You set your one foot outside, ready to go. <br/>“Because it’s you. And if it’s still not obvious, I fucking hate you to the core.”</p><p>You swallowed the lump that has formed in your throat. “Why are you so hateful, Omi?”</p><p>He smiled at you, showing his pearlescent rows of teeth. He was so beautiful. Painfully so. In another life, you would’ve let that face break your heart. </p><p>“Have you forgotten? Your mom ruined our family, Y/N,” he pronounced, laidback on the driver’s seat. But you wouldn’t miss the antipathy in each word. <br/>“She didn’t—”</p><p>“And my dad willingly let her do it.” The music from the stereo stopped. All you could hear was the loud beating of your heart. “If not for Clare, my mom wouldn’t have died. So cut out your bullshit, Y/N. I don’t want a family with you and your mother in it.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Soulmate Marks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Don’t you love it when I pound on you like this?” Primal yet animalistic lust coated his words, his nails digging in the meat of your hips. </p><p>All you could do was whimper and let him ruin you, take you, claim you from behind. Everything was embarrassing. But you couldn’t— wouldn’t— put an end to this pleasure.</p><p>With the deft thrust of his hips, Kiyoomi sent you forward. He held your nape down, nailing you to the dinner table. Against the hard surface, you could feel your nipples puckering. They, too, were ignited with the lust that seemed to dance between you. </p><p>“Look at them,” Omi hissed, leaning towards you to box your frame with his body. The vigor of his thrust decreased, but his cock was penetrating you to the base. You could feel his girth stretching the tissues of your wet and needy cunt. “They like to watch us fucking.” </p><p>Omi wrapped his hands around your arms then pulled you up, your back against his chest. His breath was close to your ear, tickling. The next thing you felt was his tongue licking your earlobe before biting the flesh. </p><p>“Omi—!” you gasped, completely out of your mind. <br/>His other hand snaked towards your jaw, cupping the flesh to tip your head towards the two individuals watching. </p><p>“Dad,” Omi chirped, “Look at your step-daughter, so fucking mad for my cock.” Omi cupped your breast and massaged, his hips snapping furiously against your buttocks. “Clare...” he breathed, the forceful thrust taking a toll to his breathing, “Isn’t your daughter beautiful? Being fucked like this by your step-son?” </p><p>They didn’t answer. Just merely looked at the both of you with glassy eyes. Seeing them watch you like this, you could swear your climax was running into your system like a runner in a marathon. So close. </p><p>“Omi, harder!” you begged in a voice that sounded like you but didn’t feel like it. </p><p>Omi tensed. With a low growl, he wrapped an arm around your neck to steady your body as he angrily jackhammered your cunt. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Your pussy... clamping around me...” </p><p>Everything and everyone went hazy as his middle finger found your throbbing clit. </p><p>“Oh my God!” you cried out, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. “Please, harder! Please!” </p><p>Kiyoomi released a full-throated moan as he began to rub your clit faster. “Hah, you’re so tight. Don’t wanna let go of my cock?” he rasped in your ear, sending goosebumps to your skin. </p><p>“I don’t,” you shot back, “You feel so good.” </p><p>“Hear that, Dad? Clare?” he teased, caving you in while fucking you, raving mad. “I’m coming.” </p><p>You fell limped in his arms. Your eyes coated with unshed tears. “Give it to me... give it to me...” you chanted, delirious. <br/>Omi cupper your pussy to push you towards him. Crushing you as he shot his load with a full-throated moan. “Y/N, fuck!” </p><p>He rode his high while rubbing your sensitive bud. Your legs shook as you started clamping around him tighter. </p><p>The room was filled with your moans. They were carnal. You couldn’t believe they were yours. And you definitely couldn’t believe that it’s Kiyoomi Sakusa, your step-brother, who was eliciting these noises from you.</p><p>You felt your lower abdomen swirl. Inner thighs beginning to crumble like bricks being pulled out of a crumbling house, one by one. You bit your lip, digging your nails in his arms. <br/>“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming— HAH!” </p><p>You sat up on your bed, clutching your chest tightly you thought you would rip your skin off. The pounding of your heart was loud in your ears. The shivers running down your spine was intense. And the sweat drenching your body was something else entirely. </p><p>It’s already morning. The birds were chirping as they sat on the branches. Innocent laughters of children ripped through the wee hours of the day. The busy day of mothers and fathers began as they stumbled for their car keys. </p><p>And here you were, running a shaking hand through your hair, trying to believe that the universe hated you. </p><p>You had dreamed of Omi. Fucking you senseless in front of your parents. On the day of your birthday. </p><p>Birthday. </p><p>With an excited shriek, you ran towards the bathroom. Sliding off of your shirt and pajamas at the same time you were running. The mirror showed you your image, head down to your navel. In your bra.</p><p>Your eyelids were seriously dilating while scanning your body, hoping that a soulmate mark was already sitting on your skin. </p><p>You scanned your wrist, hoping that you and Atsumu have the same soulmate mark. But found nothing on your skin. Your heart flipped over. However, it wasn’t the time to cry about that. You have been waiting all your life for this to let that reality ruin this day.</p><p>Chest? Nothing. Collarbones? Nothing. Neck? Nothing. Jaws? Nothing. You even snapped your bra off your chest to check if there was a mark on your breasts. Nothing. You did the same to your lower body. But found nothing unusual. </p><p>Was it on your butt? Would the universe put that in there?</p><p>Leaning closer to the mirror, you pulled your eyebags down to check if there was something unusual in your eyes. Some people’s eye color changed whenever they finally received their mark or met their soulmate. </p><p>“I’m so stupid,” you muttered breathlessly, remembering that no person would have the same mark as the other if they weren’t soulmates. </p><p>Every mark is unique.</p><p>You leaned closer again, closing eyelid after eyelid to check if there was something on your skin. Only to catch sight of the red ink around your pinky. </p><p>Your breath automatically hitched, lungs refusing to work as you stared at your finger. There really was a red ink surrounding your pinky like a ring. When you stared at it, it glowed faintly. As if it was telling you that finally, you have found it. </p><p>“Fuck, yes!” you screamed like a champion before putting on your clothes and running down the stairs to show your mother. </p><p>“Mom!” </p><p>She was cooking breakfast in the kitchen. Seeing you, a wide smile adorned her lips automatically. “I know that smile.” </p><p>“Look!” you excitedly exclaimed as you showed her your pinky. “It’s finally here!” </p><p>Your mother held your hand, scanning the red ink while running her finger on it. “This looks so cute. Be thankful that it’s not extravagant like the others.” </p><p>“Right?” you animatedly yelped. “It’s so minimal. I love it! I wonder what it means!” </p><p>Pulling you in a hug, your mother sniffed your hair. “I guess we’ll find out. Happy birthday, Y/N. You’re grown up now. Be sure to use protection—”</p><p>“Mom!” </p><p>Her laughter filled the air. Your heart warmed in your chest. “What I’m saying is, you’re finally responsible for your life. I’ll still be here, but the decision is all yours now.” </p><p>“Ah, I feel like the world out there is too overwhelming for me,” you muttered. </p><p>Cupping your cheeks, your mother looked at you as if you were her greatest treasure. “So be sure to take it with courage. You’re fine. Will always be.” </p><p>“Thank you, Mom.” You wrapped your arms around her. </p><p>“Before I forgot,” she began, pushing you away lightly. “Here.” She fished out a small box from her pocket and handed it to you. </p><p>Thorns immediately covered your throat. It was painstakingly hard to act natural upon seeing the box. But you knew you had to. </p><p>You took the small box from her. The twelfth box you have received since your sixth birthday. Not from her, but from your father. Although she didn’t know you knew that secret. </p><p>“Lemme guess, it’s a necklace again?” You laughed, covering the sob that threatened to escape from you. </p><p>Your father would always give you a necklace. A customized one. It’s the number of your current age studded with jewels. </p><p>By the weight of it, you knew it’s real. </p><p>Your mother only laughed it off before taking the necklace from you to help you lock it around your neck. </p><p>Some would wonder why haven’t you confronted her. Courage was in the line, and you didn’t have that much of it in your system yet. Especially when it comes to your own family. </p><p>However, you know that you have to move and meet your father. You were just biding your time. One of these days, you will finally meet him. </p><p>“What do you think about a birthday dinner?” your mom asked. </p><p>You didn’t ask for something grandiose. You knew well how to party but you weren’t having the thought of it. Unlike Kiyoomi, you found it hard to be the center of attention and you didn’t want that. </p><p>Remembering him, you felt yourself getting flustered. Why did you have to dream of you being fucked like that by him? <br/>You swallowed before answering, “It’s fine... I guess?“</p><p>“Is it alright if we invite Omi and Kento?” </p><p>Another dinner with Omi sounded risky as hell. But you were going to be family soon. So you nodded. “Yeah. But please don’t let Kento spend his money.” </p><p>“Of course not, silly. It’s on me. You can bring your friends, too.” </p><p>After that, you climbed up to your room, debating whether to call Atsumu. He deserved to know about your soulmate mark. Since you were sort of seeing each other. </p><p>Several messages were plastered on your screen when you opened your phone. Most were from your friends in your old school, and some were from the few friends you have made in Redlands. </p><p>You replied to each of them before clicking Atsumu’s contact. </p><p>You: I got my soulmate mark. </p><p>With it was an image of your pinky. It took him a minute to reply. </p><p>Atsumu: :(<br/>Atsumu: Doesn’t matter. As long as we like each other. Right? <br/>You: Yeah. It doesn’t matter. :) <br/>Atsumu: Happy birthday, angel. Wish I could spend the day with you. <br/>You: How about dinner tonight? Mom wants me to bring some friends. <br/>Atsumu: Sounds hella good. Count me in! How about Omi, though? I mean, I don’t give a damn about him but I’m worried about you.</p><p>That made you hesitate. Omi didn’t know anything about you continuing your relationship with Atsumu. You have been excellent at hiding it. </p><p>You: It’s my day. He couldn’t ruin it. I’ll text you the details later. :)<br/>Atsumu: See you. 🤍</p><p>The restaurant was by the bay. You arrived with your mother and Kento. </p><p>The table you were in was sequestered by a nipa hut. While the sea stretched towards the horizon, the light of the moon painted a silver hue on the water. It was a private place, away from the commotion from inside the main restaurant. </p><p>“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Kento greeted, hugging you. </p><p>“Thank you,” you replied shyly. You still weren’t used to him hugging you like a daughter. </p><p>“Tell me what do you want, I’ll buy it for you,” he quipped, but you knew it was true. If you would wish for a car, he’d bring it in front of you as if he was Santa Claus. </p><p>Chuckling, you settled in your seat. “It’s alright! I just want us to celebrate together.” </p><p>“You can whisper it to me later.” He winked, obviously taunting your mother. He knew she wouldn’t let him spend anything on you. </p><p>“I’ll think about my dream car, then.” <br/>The both of you shared a laugh. Before he stopped abruptly, looking at the man approaching. </p><p>Omi. </p><p>You never expected him to come. But here he was, with his attire of a simple white shirt paired with jogger pants. And shoes that you knew were worth this whole restaurant. </p><p>“Please, Dad, proceed,” he said with a smirk, noticing how his father’s laughter ceased the moment he saw him. </p><p>Omi sat on the chair across from your mother. He raised a brow, looking at the three of you. “Well shit, did someone die?” </p><p>He must’ve noticed your grim expressions upon his arrival. The last time you parted ways was when he told you he didn’t want a family with you in it. That was a memory you’d rather forget. </p><p>Your mother pulled through with her familiar smile once again. “We’re glad you came, Omi.” </p><p>The only one who was happy about this set-up was her. <br/>You? Well, the dream you had was coming back and playing in your mind like a movie. It was so vivid. So lewd. The way you shared your flesh in that dream felt real. You had to down the glass of water to steady your breathing again. Thank God the wind was refreshing. It blew away the sweat beading your forehead. </p><p>“I thought you’re allergic to seafood, Clare?” Omi asked, taking a sip from his wine glass. </p><p>How did he know? Nevertheless, it made your mood slightly jovial. It’s good to know that he was paying attention to his future family no matter how offhanded he was about it. </p><p>“They serve more than just seafood here,” Kento chimed in, answering for your mother. </p><p>“Fuck, I didn’t know that,” Omi taunted, leaning back on his chair. Then finally, his eyes found yours. </p><p>You didn’t know what you expected. A simple greeting? But nonetheless, it didn’t come. </p><p>“Are we gonna eat or stare at each other until later? I’m starving,” he groaned. </p><p>From the corner of your eyes, you saw a blonde jogging his way towards you. You stood up, smiling. “He’s here.” </p><p>“I’m sorry, the traffic was a bitch,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. “Happy birthday.” Then he handed you a bouquet of flowers. </p><p>“Thank you, ‘Tsumu.” </p><p>Atsumu placed a hand in the small of your back as you both faced Kento, your mother, and Kiyoomi. </p><p>“Good evening, Mr. Sakusa, Ms. Y/M/L/N.” </p><p>“Good evening,” they both greeted in unison. </p><p>You sat beside your mother, while Atsumu sat beside you. Upon sitting, he looked at Kiyoomi. Who was smiling wide-toothed at him. There was no friendliness in it. </p><p>He looked at Atsumu as if he was asking him what kind of coffin he wanted to be buried in with his eyes alone. </p><p>“Evening, Omi,” the blonde hallooed. </p><p>You expected him to go batshit. Probably waited for him to flip the table over, but all he did was to greet Atsumu back. “Evening.” </p><p>The food finally arrived. Cutting the tension in the air. Amidst the jangling of utensils, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Omi. It felt like the first time when you met him. The memory was embarrassing because you stared at him for minutes straight that night. </p><p>He looked at you, and at you alone. His eyes conveyed the words, ‘You’re fucking dead once we get home.’ </p><p>You ignored him entirely by focusing on the delicious food. </p><p>Conversations here and there were made. Your mother interviewed Atsumu. Even trying to pull Omi into the conversation, but to no avail. He was drinking more than eating. Ignoring everyone around him. </p><p>“Oh, it’s your eighteenth birthday Y/N, right?” Kento peeped. “Has your soulmate mark already appeared?” </p><p>“Oh! Yes! This morning!” you cheered. “Here.” Raising your hand, you showed them the red ink around your pinky. “It’s so cute.” </p><p>Atsumu held your hand. You felt Omi tensed at it. But he carried on eating. </p><p>“It’s really cute,” he commented. </p><p>“How about you, ‘Tsumu? Where’s your soulmate mark?” Omi suddenly chided in. Rascality was evident in his expression. He now knew that you didn’t share the same soulmate mark with Atsumu. He wanted to wave it infront of you. </p><p>Atsumu gladly showed them his wrist, to where his soulmate mark was tattooed. “It’s a set of numbers.” </p><p>“Oh, that’s interesting!” your mother piped. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t need to have the same mark to end up with each other.” </p><p>“Just like you and your husband. My father and my mom.” When all of you looked at him, he chuckled lowly. “What? Isn’t that romantic?” </p><p>“How about you, son? What’s your soulmate mark?” </p><p>Everyone went silent. You have never heard him talk about his soulmate mark. And he had already turned eighteen. <br/>Kiyoomi rolled the ring on his pinky as he leaned back. “It’s tattooed on my inner thigh. You gotta see my dick if you want to take a peep. I mean, I’m okay with that. But isn’t that inappropriate to a dinner like this one?” </p><p>Kento attempted a comeback, but was interrupted by a waitress. </p><p>“Good evening, this is the special menu cooked by Chef Paul tonight.” She had the brightest smile on her face. Her long black hair was straight, and her skin was golden. </p><p>Beside you, Atsumu tensed. </p><p>Inside the sleeves of the girl, a bright red color kept on glowing. She noticed it, too. And her movements slowed down as she scanned everyone in the table. Only for her eyes to stop at the man beside you. </p><p>You didn’t want to believe it. But there was Atsumu’s wrist, gleaming red. </p><p>Calling to its inamorata. Calling to the girl that wasn’t you. </p><p>“P... please, enjoy the food.” The woman broke out of her trance, severing the fiery eye contact between her and Atsumu. “If you need anything else, you could beep the buzzer below the table. Excuse me.” </p><p>And then there was silence. Nobody dared move a limb. Aside from Atsumu. Who stood up, looking at everyone apologetically. </p><p>“I’m sorry. Please, excuse me.” </p><p>Atsumu followed the girl. Not looking back. </p><p>You were stunned. You didn’t know what to say. How. Why? </p><p>You were ready to be happy with him. With Atsumu Miya, you were prepared to defy all odds.</p><p>Kiyoomi’s heavy sigh ripped through the stillness. “Look at the fucker, chasing his damsel. Happy birthday, li’l sis.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Ours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Atsumu meeting his soulmate the day Y/N got her mark? Guess they kept shit interesting after all.</p><p>That’s what you get for fucking with Kiyoomi Sakusa. </p><p>In the end, I still am winning against that blonde fucker. But this shit he pulled left a bad taste in my mouth— I wasn’t going to lie.</p><p>They kept seeing each other behind my back. Excellent pretenders, I must admit. But I’d say they didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. No one could escape my rage. Especially those who tried to test my wrath. </p><p>I didn’t care about him standing up and chasing that waitress’ pussy. That’s all he did before he met Y/N. Jumping from hole to another. And now, his true colors had shown. It just proved how much we were different. I might be the nastiest fucker out there, but I knew the time and place to do something stupid. Atsumu didn’t. </p><p>This moment was meant to be savored with a glass of cognac. That was exactly what I did. I filled my glass halfway through, marveling at Y/N’s face above the rim of the glass as I drank.</p><p>She was so close to crumbling down. Her eyes, an inch closer to bawling. </p><p>I wanted her to look at me and say I’ve been right all this fucking time about Atsumu. But my chest has been burning ever since I saw the fucktard Miya jogging his way towards us. </p><p>To think that I was a heartless prick, looking at them unexpectedly hurt.</p><p>“What the fuck did I tell you?” I voiced out-of-nowhere. When it comes to her, I can’t control my rage. “It wouldn’t work out between you and that asshole.”</p><p>“Shut the fuck up, Omi,” she breathed, eyes on her plate. </p><p>You knew shit had gone real bad when the goody-two-shoes’s posture collapsed. Here she was, her usual characteristic decaying in front of me. And that was sexy as fuck. My cock twitched inside my underwear. What would I give up to have that nasty mouth around my shaft? With her tongue licking my tip?</p><p>“He’s fucked almost half of Santa Monica to even consider settling down with you,” I prodded. There was no stopping me tonight. I’d let her see, with those pretty eyes of hers that there was no one alive who could take her away from me. </p><p>“Omi, language. Please,” Clare sighed. Her brows were drawn together in an exasperated attempt to mollify me. </p><p>I ignored her. Simply because I wouldn’t have her motherly bullshit. “Fucked them without condoms, by the way,” I added. That was an exaggeration. He only did it once or thrice. If the world was ending, Atsumu would probably bring his boxes of condoms as his only survival kit to the trip to Mars. </p><p>“Kiyoomi!” My father bit out, massaging his temples. </p><p>How I wished he would snap a vein so this night could go down as the bestest of my life.</p><p>“Well? What are we waiting for?“ I asked no one in particular. Don’t tell me they were planning to wait for Atsumu and welcome him with open arms? “Isn’t this dinner through—”</p><p>“The dessert, Omi. We’re waiting for the dessert,” Y/N interrupted. Me. Again. </p><p>The three of us stared at her hard on her face, trying to wait for tears to slide down her cheeks.</p><p>I would’ve thrown death threats her way for intruding me again. However, when my father broke out in a fit of laughter as well as Clare, I bit my lip to suppress a chuckle. </p><p>That was when I noticed that she didn’t look hurt. Only offended. And if she was faking it, I would’ve known. She was still happy, despite the circumstances of Atsumu’s fuckery. </p><p>It was her birthday after all. </p><p>“Are you okay?” Clare asked, rubbing Y/N’s shoulder. </p><p>She nodded with the smile that squeezed my heart. “Yes. There was no point crying about it. I have my family here with me. It’s all good.” </p><p>Family. In that instance, I felt myself wanting to go on a rampage. We weren’t family. We weren’t going to be. I won’t allow it. Especially if she was going to be part of it. <br/>—<br/>After that incident, it took everything in me not to hit Atsumu with all my might that he would need a new set of bones to keep him functioning. Every Time I saw him inside the court, my nerves ticked in annoyance. My fists begged me to connect them to his jaws. The only thing stopping me was the reminder of the upcoming competition. </p><p>I haven’t yet confronted Y/N about this little play she pulled on me. The girl was a little bummed because of her soulmate mark.</p><p>Damn soulmate mark. What a reminder that no matter what I do, she won’t be mine. Honestly, I could tell everyone to fuck off and claim her like I normally would.</p><p>That was the hardest part of it all: she wanted me, too. No matter how much she tried to hide it by being with Atsumu, I was the man clogging her mind at night. I was the one keeping her wide-awake. </p><p>But when it comes to morality, Y/N would’ve got a golden medal. And me? Fuck, I was at negative F. </p><p>During training, the only thing keeping us working together were Coach’s shouting, Osamu and Rintaro’s slaps on our backs whenever we found ourselves nose to nose yet again. <br/>“Told you, she’s gonna drag us down to a dirty path,” Osamu once hissed before chugging on his water bottle.</p><p>“Your idiotic twin did,” I muttered, drinking from my own bottle.</p><p>They knew about what happened at the resto by the bay. I didn’t tell. But Atsumu surely did sang like a fucking canary. </p><p>As if what happened was something he should boast about. </p><p>“Y/N didn’t do anything wrong. It’s Atsumu and Omi’s fault,” Rintaro sighed. “Your douchebag of a twin knew Y/N was Omi’s apple of the eye. Yet he tried getting in her pants. And this mothefucker right here,” he pinned, nudging his bottle at me, “Wanted to fuck his sis like he didn’t care about hell or some shit they’ve written in the Bible.” </p><p>I didn’t answer. At this point, I was so blinded by my lust I didn’t care shit about anything holy. I was prepared to die a sinner anyway.</p><p>“Dude, did you ever listen to your Science teacher? About the effects of incestuous relationship?” Osamu asked, curiosity naked in his face. Face that I debated whether to ruin at once.</p><p>I continued stretching my limbs. “Fuck you, ‘Samu. Bet you didn’t even know what’s the powerhouse of a cell yourself. And we’re not siblings. We don’t share the same DNA.” </p><p>“Didn’t know that’s an excuse to literally be condemned for her pussy,” Rintaro commented, tossing the ball over and over to the air as he lay on the wooden floor. “Man, your father’s gonna tie the knots with her mother soon. Time to drop and pet your dick whenever she’s around. There’s still a lot of fish in the sea.”</p><p>For the most part, I was a little joyous because this time, I knew they were done for real. She had cut things off with Atsumu and he came back to his usual self. Looking stoned every fucking time. Throwing jest at every person insane enough to indulge in his crap. </p><p>Too bad for him, I wasn’t one to tolerate his bullshit. Not right now. </p><p>As I began to stretch my legs, reaching my toes as I did, Atsumu approached me with a shit-eating grin on his face.<br/>He plopped down beside me and began imitating my stretches. The douchebag was being too close for my own penchant. That stupid grin was still plastered on his face. </p><p>“What’s poppin’, Omi?” </p><p>“Your face if you don’t get the fuck away from me,” I replied vapidly. </p><p>Atsumu chuckled, elbowing my shoulder harder than he should have. “Chill out, man. Was just tryna catch up.” </p><p>I discontinued my stretching and glared at him. “Get to your point, fucktard.“</p><p>Atsumu flashed me his shabby smile. By the width of his grin, I could tell he was proud of something. Gloating, even. He tilted his head to the side. “Straight to the motherfucking point then: She’s your soulmate, right? Your step-sister?” </p><p>I hated how stiff I grew at his words. My jaw was clenching painfully, teeth grinding against each other. I stood up and grabbed the ball that rolled my way. Atsumu followed my actions. </p><p>“Shut your asshole, Miya,” I warned.</p><p>“I’ve been wondering why do you keep wearing your stupid and rusty rings even though you knew they’re not allowed in volleyball.” He reached for my shoulder and brushed off invisible threads. I swatted his arm away. “It made so much sense when I saw her mark. Man, isn’t that tragic as fuck? Was that why you were so eager to have your cock shoved inside her before your parents’ wedding? Your love story’s at a dead end way before it started. Guess you couldn’t have every—”</p><p>I was livid. </p><p>The pumping of my veins were intense when my fist finally connected with his face. Atsumu never got the chance to recover from the shock because I was all over him. My knuckles turned red while punching him until his lips were cleaved and his nose was broken. But I couldn’t stop. Not when I was blinded with hatred. Hatred that I have never felt before. </p><p>Was he back with her?</p><p>Strong arms yanked me away from Atsumu. I was burning inside and out from my anger. The blood covering my knuckles wasn’t enough. I wanted more of it. I wanted him to bleed more. </p><p>“Keep your hands off her, Miya,” I seethed. “She’s mine.”</p><p>Atsumu liked the thought of her. He liked how she was gutsy yet innocent at the same time. He wanted to fuck her. Fuck her then leave her after. He was just better at pretending that he wanted to put a ring on her finger at the end of it all. Y/N, on the other side, thought he was some romantic Romeo ready to die for her.</p><p>“What the fuck’s happening, Atsumu?” Rintaro demanded, helping some of our teammates in holding me back. </p><p>Atsumu wiped the blood from his split lip. His teeth were covered in red when he smiled at me. “I feel sorry for you, you fucking pussy. Who would’ve thought that this day would come? Your money can’t do shit this time, Omi. Stay miserable inside your mansion while I kiss her every day. Die thinking how I’m going to fuck her senseless in positions that you have dreamed fucking her in.”</p><p>“What the hell, Atsumu!” Osamu roared, pushing his twin’s chest away from the commotion. “Fuck off before I break your goddamn face!” </p><p>“Is it true? She’s your soulmate?” Rintaro asked me, fisting a handful of my jersey while holding up his palm towards Atsumu. </p><p>There it was. </p><p>I felt the invisible grip of the red mark around my pinky finger now that it doesn’t have any ring to cover it anymore. “Yeah. She is.” </p><p>Admitting it out loud felt like defeat. Because what was the fucking point, anyways? Before yesterday, I tried to believe that it wasn’t what I thought it was. That the stupefying feeling I have felt when I saw her the first time in that dinner was nothing but a goof. But when she raised her hand to show her soulmate mark, I became mad. To the point where I couldn’t even speak a word. That was a first. </p><p>I heard heavy sighing from Rintaro and Osamu. From the way they looked at me, I knew they had already put two and two together. Knew why I was so fervent in claiming her.</p><p>“Don’t fucking look at me like that again.” I forced a chuckle, shrugging off from their hold. “There’s still a lot of fish in the sea.” And yet I knew she was all that I wanted.<br/>—<br/>“Omi? You’ve got a minute?” Kento Sakusa’s voice rippled through the other side of my oak door. </p><p>“No, I don’t,” I said on auto-pilot while jamming my thumbs against the controller. Why couldn’t everyone just fucking leave me the fuck alone? </p><p>“It’s something... important,” he hesitated. “I need your opinion on something, son.” </p><p>I looked at the door, debating whether to open up or let him stand on the threshold forever. He seldom ventured towards my room. What more knock and attempt a conversation. If this was his attempt to bind our hopeless father-and-son relationship, I’d gladly say that he had failed. </p><p>“Spill it,” I shouted, eyes back on my fifty-inch television screen. </p><p>“I’m coming in,” he declared. </p><p>Before I could shout at him to fuck off, he was already pushing the door open. </p><p>“It’s about Clare.”</p><p>Not sparing him a glance, I raised a brow. “What about Mom?” I scoffed, the last word felt like fire coals in my mouth. But I said it anyways to spite him.</p><p>“I would appreciate it if we would have a civilized conversation, Omi.” </p><p>Always the polite and refined Kento Sakusa. </p><p>“Civilized conversation? I have been waiting for that since my Mom died. None came. Now I don’t have any fucks to give you anymore.”</p><p>How could someone piss me off this bad? </p><p>He let out an aggravated sigh. “Please, son. We can talk about that later.” </p><p>Later. It has been like that for three-years straight now. “What the fuck is it about?” </p><p>“What do you think Clare would prefer? A beach or a garden wedding?” he asked, struggling to sound cheery. As if he expected his question to make flowers bloom inside this sad and pathetic house. </p><p>“You think I give a shit about her preference?” I asked, amused. “You could marry her in hell and catch me watching the both of you burn with popcorn and soda in hand.” </p><p>My father suspired. He was clearly exhausted from talking to his own son. Not like I wanted to converse with him myself. I preferred him to shut up and fly a country away from me. “I’ll go ask her myself, then,” he articulated. </p><p>That was when it hit me. This was what I have been waiting for all this time. “You really wanted her, huh?” </p><p>I didn’t wait for him to speak and answer that question. We wouldn’t be sharing the same surname all while acting strangers if he didn’t want Clare. He wanted her more than anything. More than his own family.</p><p>My feet ventured towards the building next to our house. In contrast to the huge ass mansion beside it, this two-storey building felt more like home. </p><p>The front yard has a pathway full of flowers. The façade of the house was customized to look welcoming. Even the furniture inside was random. Unlike the ones inside my own that if it wasn’t black, it’s in grey tones.</p><p>I found myself going up the stairs with my head heady. The rage I was keeping close to me was boiling in every step that I took. </p><p>She was in her bedroom, folding clothes. I stared at her and wondered what could be the reason why my father gave up on us to be with her. Despite what has happened in the past, reckoning what was so special about her remained a pain in the ass. </p><p>I pulled my jaw taut, hands inside my pockets. “Hola, Clare.” <br/>I saw her back tensed at the sound of my voice. The way she always does whenever I am around. Regardless of how much she tried to veil her uneasiness with a smile, I could smell her shit from a mile away. This woman destroyed my family. Laughed while she did it. It was impossible for her to sympathize with the only reminder of her sins— it was impossible to sympathize with me.</p><p>Apathy rolled off her tongue when she asked, “What do you want?”</p><p>Whenever we found ourselves alone together, she couldn’t be bothered covering her revolt against me. Not that I give a damn. I could destroy her in ways that she wouldn’t be able to imagine. She knew that. She feared that.</p><p>“Was it that easy, Clare? Ruining our lives?” Straight to the damn point. I didn’t want to stay here until Y/N arrived from probably fucking that asshat Atsumu. I wouldn’t know what I would do, then. </p><p>“I didn’t ruin it, Kiyoomi. How many times do I have to tell you?” She continued folding her clothes, not bothering to face me. </p><p>I walked inside her bedroom, invading her privacy just like how she invaded our family. “You sure about that? That’s what your daughter believes too, you know? Couldn’t blame her, though. She doesn’t know shit about her own mother.” </p><p>I stepped closer, until I was certain my presence was enough to make her feel caged. </p><p>“Don’t involve my daughter in this, Kiyoomi,” she gritted out. <br/>“Did you tell her how you enjoyed fucking my father while my mother counted her days in her deathbed? Did you tell her how you sucked my father’s dick right in their shared bedroom while my mom rotted away, delirious and out of her mind in that same goddamn room?”</p><p>Her eyes kept widening as my words got filthier. Raising a shaking pointer finger, she gnashed, “I won’t have you talking to me like this, Kiyoomi. I’m your step-mom.” </p><p>I inched closer until I towered over her frame. “Did. You. Tell. Her?” </p><p>“Kiyoomi—!”</p><p>“Guess you did not. She won’t look at you with stars in her eyes if you did.”</p><p>I could almost taste her fear. Because between us, she knew that those weren’t metaphorical. It was the truth. I heard it with my own ears. She was also aware that that wasn’t the worst of her secrets. </p><p>She sighed, her nose flaring. “Are you done?“ </p><p>I masked away my indignation by smiling at her. Hoping that she could see my mother staring back at her through me. “Worse of it all, that wasn’t the end of your fuckery, Clare. We both know that, don’t we?” </p><p>Clare opened her mouth to speak but I didn’t give her a chance to. I walked out of her awful bedroom.</p><p>I left her shattered and most likely thinking of her life choices right now. </p><p>“What... were you doing in my Mom’s room, Omi?” </p><p>I realized I have been in trance until I saw her looking up at me from the base of the stairs. From the way that I emerged, it was easy to tell that I visited her mother<br/>. <br/>Life’s a bitch but sometimes it’s giving me what I wanted. Tonight, I’d hit two birds with one stone. </p><p>“None of your damn business, I think,” I shot back, descending the steps. “So, how is it? You’re back with Atsumu? Didn’t know you were that dumb to tolerate what happened in the resto.” </p><p>She frowned. And it hurts to see her. I fucking wanted her out of my sight. But her face was all I’ve ever known of peace. </p><p>“Did you do it?” she asked through clenched teeth. </p><p>“Did what exactly?” </p><p>“Did you intentionally call the waitress because you knew Atsumu would be there? Did you know that she’s his soulmate?” she asked as if there was a panther chasing her from behind.</p><p>What the fuck? “Fucking pardon?” </p><p>She looked at me as if she wanted me gone for good before saying, “You knew Atsumu would be there at the dinner. You found out who his soulmate is before he did. So you devised a plan to ruin my birthday by setting them up—”</p><p>I cut her off. “Aren’t you being so full of yourself right now, Y/N?” </p><p>Her expression didn’t budge, though. I could tell she was hellbent in believing that I have planned the humiliation she had gone through on her birthday. “Just tell me the truth.” <br/>I stepped forward. She stepped back. Until I have her back against the wall. </p><p>“At a rate of one to ten, how high are you?” I inquired. Because none of what she said made sense to me. Who the fuck does she think she was?</p><p>“Atsumu told me—”</p><p>“Atsumu? You believe that fucking dud? I didn’t do shit. You better believe that. And why are you even back with him? He’s got his soulmate. Even left you dumbfounded to chase her.” </p><p>She pressed her mouth in a thin line. By the looks of it, she wanted to push me away. But she couldn’t. She wanted me close. And even if that was a tug of her mark or not, I didn’t care. </p><p>She wanted me. I wanted her. If only she’d say a word. <br/>“He chased her to say that it won’t work out between them because he likes me,” she explained. </p><p>Something rang in my ears. “He lied to you, then. And what about you? Do you like him? Really like him?” Say no. For everyone’s sake, say no. </p><p>We stared at each other. She couldn’t answer my question because the tug of our soulmate marks were getting tighter. </p><p>I caged her with my arms, deliberately avoiding any skin contact. I wasn’t primed for what could happen if our skins touched now she already had her mark. “It’s your turn to tell me the truth.” </p><p>“I don’t have any truth to say to you,” she replied. </p><p>“Who do you think about at night whenever you finger yourself?” </p><p>She gasped. But didn’t make a move to push me away. Thank fuck. “What the hell?”</p><p>“Tell me,” I seethed. I was going out of my mind thinking about her with Atsumu. It should’ve been us doing what they were doing every time they were together. However, I knew that the bond we shared since birth was stronger than anything else. </p><p>“Stop it, Omi!” </p><p>“Tell me whose face makes you cum at night, Y/N? Who?” </p><p>Pulling her chin up, she looked straight in my eyes. “If I answer, would you leave me alone?” </p><p>Clare better stay in her bedroom until I hear what I want to hear. Or else, it’s going to go batshit from here. </p><p>“Depends. You better answer right. Now, tell me. Who do you think about at night whenever you insert your fingers in your tight little cunt—”</p><p>“You, Omi. Always.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Outside Hitter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Some would say that after Y/N’s answer, we would fuck each other to the ends of our wits already. And for the record, I thought we would do exactly that. Not until fucking Clare decided to show up, hesitant to throw me death glares now that her daughter was present with us. </p><p>“Omi, do you need anything else?” Clare asked, her voice sugarcoated. </p><p>I pulled away from Y/N. Who tucked strands of her hair behind her ear, covering the sweat that profusely covered her forehead. </p><p>“Nah, I was just walking out of the door when I saw li’l sis. Right?” I turned my head towards Y/N, raising my brows to apprise her to say something that’d convince her good-for-nothing-mother that our proximity earlier wasn’t sexual. Not that I gave a fuck if Clare would think that way. </p><p>Y/N threw me a look before nodding her head. “Yeah. He was about to borrow a book.” </p><p>“But I’ve changed my mind. Turns out I didn’t need to study shit because of my father’s multi-million dollar companies,” I pronounced. </p><p>That was a lie. Once I get the hell out of that mansion, I wouldn’t spend a penny Kento Sakusa would give me. I’d burn them to ashes. I was only squandering his money for shit like alcohol and blunt to spite him. And of course, cars. </p><p>Y/N ignored me and fished a book from her backpack. I saw a cloth folded neatly inside, but didn’t ask what it was. She handed me her history book with an awkward smile. “You should borrow it, Omi. Here, study well.”</p><p>Taking the book, I held it between my fingers. “Thanks.” I leaned closer until I was sure Clare wouldn’t hear us. “About your fantasies at night: You’re so naughty, aren’t you? Wanna come to my room? I don’t know, prolly ride me like a cowgirl tonight?” </p><p>She glared at me, the desire to slap my teeth off my mouth visible on her face. And I was so deep in my foolishness because that turned me on. Big time. </p><p>Whispering, she said, “You really like offering your sexual fantasies as if they were food, don’t you? Stop being disgusting for once, Omi.” </p><p>Fucking hell. She was turning me on. I could feel my cock twitching inside as if we were on a foreplay. </p><p>“I’m offering them to you for free. Might as well grab it while you still can.” I bonked the spine of the book lightly on her forehead. “I’ll keep my door open.” </p><p>“Not a chance,” she was quick to retort. </p><p>I chuckled at that. I knew she wouldn’t come. She wouldn’t take me even if I bore my naked ass in front of her. Y/N was like that. Morality was her middle name.</p><p>“Have a nice evening, then. Think about me later while fingering your pussy.” With that, I walked out of their house. Leaving her and Clare standing, watching me go. </p><p>When I reached my room, my breathing was an absolute wreck. What was happening to me? Pussy crawled their way towards me. It wasn’t as though I liked that fact. But I didn’t beg for a taste of it. Not once.</p><p>Fuck. I wasn’t going to do it. What was I? A ten-year-old giddy boy drooling for pussy? Well, I was. Minus the ten-year-old.</p><p>And I was still hard as a motherfucker imagining how she fingered herself thinking of me. </p><p>See, Miya fucking Atsumu? You were with her but I was the one clogging her brain. </p><p>What does her pussy look like? What the fuck does it smell like? Was it puffy? Was her clit showing between her slits? Does she keep it shaved? Doesn’t matter. I’d eat that cunt raw even if there was a whole goddamn forest surrounding it.</p><p>As my thoughts spiraled inside my mind, I hadn’t realized that my pants were pulled down together with my underwear. I had my hand wrapped around my cock in an instant. </p><p>Without little to no volition, I wrapped my hand around my cock and began to pump. Pumped like it was the only thing I wanted to do for the rest of my life. </p><p>The book fell out of my grip. I was sweaty. I couldn’t think anything else but Y/N. In her stupid smile. Stupid face. Stupid body that seemed to own me from head to toe. </p><p>There was a thud as I leaned towards the door. The back of my other hand was on my mouth as I breathed rapidly, chasing my high. </p><p>“Ah, fuck—” I dragged the words as I continued to jerk. “Y/N.” My thighs began to twitch like a fucking amateur. “Ah, fucking hell!” I pumped, and pumped. Chest heaving painfully. “What the fuck!” </p><p>Semen spurted out of my cock as the high washed through me. I was cursing like it was the only vocabulary I was able to speak. I came. Hard. The white sticky semen shining on the wooden floor boards. </p><p>I slid down, my hands on either side of my head, clutching my curly strands.</p><p>Goddamn. I didn’t want that on my floor. I wanted that inside Y/N. <br/>—<br/>“The rotation’s like this. Mess up as much as you would. But win. I don’t wanna go home with snot dripping down your ugly noses,” Coach stated, showing us the whiteboard for the last time before the competition started. </p><p>I began taping my fingers as I listened to him talk. The roar of other schools surrounding us was deafening. But the one dominating the whole gymnasium was of course, our institute. </p><p>Similar to us, the cheerleaders were donned with jersey skirts and tight clothes. From my position, I could make out the faces of girls I’ve fucked silly waving their pom poms to the air. What were their names again? Doesn’t matter.</p><p>If only Y/N could wear the same cheerleading uniform and cheer me, I would’ve dashed my way towards the championship in no time. </p><p>“Shit,” I hissed. </p><p>I was thinking about her again. I haven’t yet recovered from what I did the other night. That was a first. I usually masturbate without thinking about anyone at all. Sometimes I do it just to sleep whenever I find it hard to do so. </p><p>She triggered yet another experience in me. </p><p>Atsumu still had a bandage below his eye, to where his bone lied underneath. I got him good. And I wasn’t sorry at all. Well, a bit. That could affect his performance. And I didn’t want to lose. I hated losing.</p><p>“You ready to go?” he asked me, cautious that I might snap and we might brawl again. </p><p>“Yeah. Give me your best shot,” I answered rather unwillingly. A huge part of me didn’t want to talk to this fucker yet. But that would jeopardize our teamwork so might as well deal with him today. </p><p>Inside the court, we settle our differences. </p><p>My ability as an outside hitter was impeccable. Although you won’t see me boasting about it. The truth is the truth even though no one could hear it.</p><p>Whenever I was inside the court, the memories of the first time volleyball was introduced to me would rush back. </p><p>I was nine-years-old. </p><p>“Mom, you play basketball?” I asked as I saw my mother spinning a ball in her hand. </p><p>She was in her usual attire at home. Fluffy dress with her hair pulled up in a tight and neat bun. She looked like a fairy. <br/>I was naive about it then. I thought it was only basketball and nothing else. However, the ball looked so much softer and smaller than a basketball. </p><p>My mom laughed her contagious one before offering me the thing. “No. It’s a volleyball, Omi-omi.” </p><p>I tilted my head to the side, having a hard time understanding the difference. “What’s volleyball?” </p><p>“Let me show you,” she cheered before taking the ball from me. </p><p>We were at the court in our backyard. Mom had it built for her daily practices. She played in the nationals and was a permanent player in one of the prestigious volleyball teams in the country. </p><p>Mom dribbled the ball then threw it towards the basket case. She picked it up when it landed on the ground then walked back towards me. </p><p>“That’s basketball. You penetrate the other team’s defenses to get the ball in their basket.” She spun the ball again in her hands before offering it back to me. “Throw it towards Mama, Omi-omi.” </p><p>I didn’t know how to throw it before. Do I go full-force? But I sent the ball up towards her. She caught it with her wrists. Mom didn’t stop hitting and digging it until it finally fell. </p><p>“Rule number one: Don’t let the ball drop,” she lectured, raising her finger up. “That’s volleyball.” </p><p>I was a little kid who admired her mother in her natural habitat. It was the volleyball who put a smile on her face despite the gloom that was in our house. So I looked up at the sports with twinkle in my eyes. Vowing that I would make myself the best in the game.</p><p>Everyday since then, we would practice in the backyard. I would throw the ball at her and she would dig it with everything in her. Until she was the one hurling up the ball towards me and I was finally at the receiving end.</p><p>Mom also noticed how flexible my wrists were. She told me it was a blessing and I would become unbeatable if I use it right. Because of it, I have won and won with two or three losses in my record. </p><p>I was a monster at volleyball. It was all thanks to her that I became one. </p><p>“Omi!” Atsumu shouted, his fingers ready to toss the ball for me. </p><p>I could feel the adrenaline shooting up in my system. The movements of my muscle as I jumped and hit the ball were all too familiar. But I didn’t think I would get used to it. I have always wanted more of it. </p><p>The ball landed to the other side of the court. Inside. By the impact of my spike, they failed to dig. Despite that, we were still behind by five points. </p><p>Our opponents were tough. They could see right through us. And it pissed me off. Their defenses were solid, too. As if they poured all their time watching our previous games for this day. And by the smug expressions they all had, it was paying off.</p><p>“Relax,” Coach exhaled, but by the broadening of his nostrils, I wanted to say he was the one who needed the same advice he gave us. “Their defenses are familiar, that’s what our opponents always do to stop us. Pay attention to their attacks instead. Read them for a while.”</p><p>I quaffed large gulps of water. Little liquid spilled from my mouth. Skimming through the audience, I wiped the sides of my lips with the back of my hand. But I froze the time I saw her. </p><p>Y/N. Standing in the audience. Looking down at me. Wearing our jersey. Wait. I calmed down my dick before relishing at the sight of her. She was on our jersey. </p><p>I squinted my eyes and almost went berserk mode when I saw whose number was plastered on the uniform. Atsumu’s number. Y/N was wearing the fucktard’s jersey. </p><p>She pressed her mouth together. She must’ve read the disapproval on my face. This girl would be the death of me. And deep down, she liked what she saw. Y/N loved it when I suffered. </p><p>I looked away to see Atsumu watching her watch me. Our eyes met, but he merely nudged his head towards the court. <br/>We lose another five points because of that. I couldn’t focus. Atsumu found it hard to focus as well. His tosses were wacky and my attacks had little to no power. I could feel Coach’s glares on our backs. Our teammates hesitant eyes asking what the fuck was wrong. </p><p>Fifteen-twenty five. We lost the first set. </p><p>“Fuck,” I whispered before standing up and ignoring Coach’s bellows. </p><p>I looked up to see Y/N. “You. Locker’s room,” I commanded. I wasn’t taking no for an answer. She would follow or I’d drag her. </p><p>From my peripheral, Atsumu stood up but was held down by his twin. He slumped back down and didn’t make a move to follow.</p><p>“What is this time, Omi?” she asked when we reached the room.</p><p>I only have at least two minutes to finish this. And fuck, I didn’t have my ring with me. To hide the mark, I had pretended to tuck in my uniform inside my jersey shorts with my right hand, to where it was tattooed on my pinky while I dug my spare jersey inside my duffel bag. Hoping to fuck that it doesn’t glow or what the fuck it was supposed to do whenever my soulmate’s near. </p><p>I tossed it towards her. “Change your clothes.”</p><p>She caught the fabric then looked at me google-eyed. “Excuse me? Why would I do that?” </p><p>I hoped she didn’t notice my stupid hand inside my shorts. “Because you, wearing Atsumu’s jersey, got him hard as a motherfucking stone. With that boner, he wouldn’t be able to focus on the game. And I hate to lose because of his horny ass.” It was a lie. He didn’t get a boner. I didn’t know. Shoot me if I goddamn checked. </p><p>Appalled, she stared at me with her pretty mouth hanging open slightly. She was calculating the odds. By our standing, she knew we were in a bad place. Perhaps I was hitting her conscience. It was half her fault why we have lost the first set, after all. </p><p>“I don’t want to,” she answered. </p><p>I felt the veins in my temple ticked. “Come again?”</p><p>Why wouldn’t she just do what I tell her to? My palms were sweaty inside my shorts already. I had to insert my left hand inside as well as to not look suspicious and weird about hiding my right hand.</p><p>“I said I don’t want to wear your jersey. Do you want me to spell it out for you?”</p><p>I worked my jaw. She always wanted it the hard way. “You’d rather walk out in your lacy bra, then? Because I’m telling you right now, you ain’t getting out of this room wearing his jersey. Choose, Y/N.”</p><p>She stood unyielding, throwing me daggers with her eyes. “I fucking hate you with everything that I am,” she gritted out before pulling up the hem of the jersey. When I didn’t make a move, she looked at me with her eyebrow raised. “Well? Get the fuck out now. I’m not showing you my tits.” </p><p>I chortled. God, I was fucking turned on by this side of her. “What’s the matter of showing them, though? I could give them a good sucking before I return—”</p><p>“Fuck off or I’ll rip your jersey to shreds? Choose, Omi.” </p><p>I shook my head. Unable to control the wide grin that has spread out on my lips. “Be sure to wear my jersey. I’m not letting you go if you deceive me this time.” </p><p>I told her I hated to lose. In all honesty, it wouldn’t matter if we were defeated that day. Because when I departed that locker room, I’ve already fucking won. <br/>—</p><p>“What the fuck’s your problem, Omi?” Atsumu grated, the veins on his forehead threatening to pop off because of vexation. </p><p>Manspreading, I halted my movements in wiping the sweat off my nape and looked up at him through my lashes. “The fuck do you mean?”</p><p>He pulled my collar up. I let him. After our competition, I had no more energy left in me to deal with anyone’s bullshit. </p><p>“Aren’t we going to stop them?” One of the juniors whispered to Rintaro, who only waved his hand. </p><p>“Let them kill each other. C’mon, wash your dirty dicks in the shower. We’ve got a whole night ahead of us,” he commanded, wriggling his shoulders, “Time for some celebration.”</p><p>The others departed the dugout, throwing us wary glances. Osamu didn’t bother to stop nor glance at us. He just threw a towel over his shoulder then walked out with a sigh. </p><p>Rintaro trotted towards our direction and gave our backs a pat. “You fuckers were such pain in my ass. If you wanna fight, be done with it already, hm?” Then he walked away, signaling the other remaining players to follow. </p><p>“Now, where were we?” I asked Atsumu as the door closed. “Were you crying because Y/N wore my jersey?” </p><p>His nose flared. “She’s your sister. If you wanna go down that path, don’t drag her with you.” </p><p>I wrapped my hands around both his wrists and gripped. Certain that I would stop the flow of his blood. “Seriously, what’s got your panties in a twist? She’s mine from the get-go.” </p><p>Atsumu bared his teeth and shook me. “You’re sick in the head, Omi. So goddamn sick in the head.” </p><p>That was it. I grabbed his collar and squeezed. I would fucking ruin his face. I fucking swore. “You’re one delusional motherfucker, then.” My teeth were grinding painfully. I couldn’t stop the boiled up anger I have for this jackass anymore. This stops now. “What the fuck did you think? That everytime she watches our game, she comes for you? Fuck you. She’s there, screaming in the crowd because I was at first-string. She’s there, standing wet in her panties, because her outside hitter dominated the game.” I inched closer. I wanted him to hear my words loud and clear. “She’s there, so quick to toss away your jersey because I handed her mine.” </p><p>The punch came harder than what I had expected. I’ve lost my balance and went tumbling down the floor. Atsumu threw curses at me, attempting to attack again. But I was on my feet, wiping the blood from my lips. Atsumu’s back was against the doorway when some familiar silhouette approached. </p><p>“You know what, Omi?” he began, “You could hug your lube and wrap a hand around your dick while imagining your sister in a Kama Sutra movie, but you won’t erase the goddamn fact that she’s mine. And the one who’s hitting that pussy raw tonight is me.” </p><p>Bingo. </p><p>Y/N’s eyes hardened at that. Her hands turned into fists as she sauntered up to us and grated, “I am a woman and not a walking pussy. Both of you could suck each other’s dick because I ain’t fucking any of you tonight. Good fucking bye.” </p><p>She heard us fighting. Thank fuck none of us said anything about being soulmates. </p><p>Atsumu whirled as fast as a lightning at the sound of her voice. “Y/N, wait!” He jogged to catch up to her. But came to an abrupt stop when someone appeared at the threshold. Again.</p><p>I watched everything unveil right before my eyes with a grin as the girl from the restaurant stood there. She had her eyes set on Atsumu as she said, “Atsumu Miya, I think you’re right. We should really give this relationship a shot.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Theory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>To be very honest, you didn’t know what was happening anymore. Everything felt so overwhelming that the first thing you did was to run away from them. </p><p>You weren’t going to lie and pretend that the stunt Atsumu pulled regarding his soulmate didn’t hurt. It did. But just like the times where he fucked up with your feelings, you were more offended than miserable. </p><p>You deserved better. </p><p>Perhaps you should’ve seen it coming. Perhaps it was your fault after all. It was your fault to give in and trust him again with a piece of your heart. Notwithstanding of the circumstances, you liked him. But in the deepest and darkest part of your system, you knew he was merely a patch to the wound. </p><p>However hard you tried to swerve your feelings towards Atsumu, it just kept coming back to him. But no matter what you do, he was out of your reach. </p><p>Kiyoomi Sakusa was your wound. You didn’t know how or why, but looking at him these days hurt. As if you were staring at the sun without any eye protection. He was unreachable somehow. </p><p>In another life, what would’ve happened? Would your parents meet and tango in a relationship once more? Would you suffer in silence as the possibility to be with Omi slipped between your fingers like sand as their marriage approached? </p><p>You chuckled acerbically. What was to say that Omi was better than Atsumu? At times, the blonde was preferable than the raven-haired. Although they share this unassuaged spirit to get into your pants, Atsumu has more human decency than Kiyoomi. </p><p>Whatever you did or were doing was for the best. You couldn’t simply nourish your feelings towards Omi and pretend that the both of you weren’t going to be siblings. You didn’t even know if he liked you. </p><p>Sometimes, he says things that makes your heart jump in elation. He was claiming you, saying all these sexual stuff to you as if you were the only girl he wanted to have sex with. You knew that those weren’t valid reasons to like someone. But why do you feel this way towards him, anyway? </p><p>As if he was a magnet, pulling you in. Pulling you in then repelling you after. And if you did like each other, your feelings would definitely walk its way towards a dumpster heap. </p><p>You were brought back to reality when someone finally sat across from you inside a diner not far from your house. </p><p>“Y/N,” Atsumu greeted, gloom looming over his face. It seemed like he hasn’t slept a wink. </p><p>After running away to the the scene in the gymnasium, Atsumu texted you to meet him that same night. </p><p>You weren’t going to come and meet him today. Who does he think he is? But when he told you he was going to explain, who were you to refuse? You deserved at least to be enlightened. </p><p>“You look like shit,” you pointed out before sipping on your drinks. </p><p>Atsumu chuckled. “Yeah. I do.” </p><p>Silence covered the atmosphere before he cleared his throat. “What happened back at the gym, I know I fucked up. And I didn’t ask you to come to ask for forgiveness or with hopes that we could get back together.” </p><p>He clasped his hands together then placed them above the table. “I like you. I still do. But... but when I saw Mona, I felt this intense feelings in me. I know it’s the tug of our soulmate mark. But this shit... it’s fierce. I don’t even know how to explain because I am a shit at explaining.”  </p><p>“What happened in my birthday, ‘Tsumu? What did you tell her when you ran for her?” He already told you the bits. But everything was different now and you needed the actual truth. </p><p>He looked at you as if saying he already told you. But his mouth thinned before saying, “I told her we could meet up someday to work things out. She refused. She saw us together. But she was gentle at telling me that. Like me, she felt the extreme tug of our soulmate marks, too. Perhaps that was why her decision changed.”</p><p>You hummed, processing it all as rational as you could. Were soulmate marks that strong? “Then why did you tell me that you’ve cut things off with her from the get-go? And about Omi setting us up, you lied about that, too?” </p><p>Atsumu leaned back and blew out a heavy sigh. “About Omi, it was a hunch. He’s got the power to do that.” Running a hand through his blonde tresses, he shifted on his seat. “I like you, Y/N. I was so conflicted when I met Mona. Somehow, I wanted to prove to myself that it’s never gonna work out between us. But she deserved, at least, to be with her soulmate before we decide together.”</p><p>“I guess you’re right. You deserve to try. But you should’ve cut things off with me first before you decided what to do. It’s unfair, Atsumu.” </p><p>“You’re right, Y/N. I fucked up real bad. I just... when I saw her... everything went into place.” He chuckled, eyes shining. You should’ve been hurt. But you weren’t. It was invigorating to see him like this. “She belongs with me. And I with her.” </p><p>“That’s some romantic shit right there,” you pronounced. </p><p>Honestly, you didn’t have the fight to argue with him anymore. It wasn’t as though you were in a real relationship. The both of you had only been trying to pour gas into the small fire that was your attraction towards each other. In the end, you failed.</p><p>Atsumu’s chest rumbled with another chuckle. “When you finally meet your soulmate, you’ll feel the same. I think it’s a bit unfair to take this feelings away from you, Y/N.”</p><p>“I wonder who could be the unlucky bastard,” you sighed. You guess he was right. Most of the people anticipates their soulmate marks because they wanted to experience some kind of intense passion. You would neglect yourself that same ardor if you would settle down with a person that wasn’t your soulmate. </p><p>Atsumu apologized some more when the door inside the diner was pushed open. </p><p>He trotted right in as if he owned the place. His eyes dragged across the whole place, as if searching for someone. Until they landed on yours. </p><p>Kiyoomi Sakusa. What was he doing here? </p><p>“There you are,” he snickered, “Been looking everywhere for you.” Kiyoomi strolled towards your seat, eyes penetrating you deep in your soul.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” you inquired. How did he know you were here? And why does he looked as though he prepared for some kind of war? Or already has gone through one? His hair were a bit disheveled and his cheeks were pinkish. </p><p>He didn’t answer you, though. He slapped a hand on the table, leaning in closer to you before looking at Atsumu’s way. Who stared hard at him. “Sorry attempt to salvage your relationship?” he deadpanned. </p><p>“It’s not like that, O—”</p><p>He cut him off immediately. “Well, I’m taking my girl now. You know what do, right? Fuck off.” </p><p>Before you could argue, Omi wrapped a hand around your wrist and pulled up. Atsumu was baffled. You merely left him with an apologetic look. </p><p>“Omi, wait! Where are we going?!” you exclaimed, trying to wriggle free from his hold. But it was hopeless. His hold was tight. </p><p>He didn’t answer as he continued to drag you towards his car. “Get in. No buts. No whys,” he commanded. Something told you that he was different tonight. There was something dark around him. Darker. What happened? </p><p>Nibbling at your lower lip, you sat on the bullet seat, confused and nervous at the same time. </p><p>Kiyoomi sat without a word. He revved the engine and flew to the night. This time, Sex Pistols wasn’t blasting on his speakers. It was silent but the loud beating of your heart. </p><p>Something was definitely wrong. </p><p>“Omi, where are we going?” you braved to ask. </p><p>His jaw was pulled taut. His grip on the steering wheel tight as to reveal the veins in the back of his hand and arm. “We’re gonna have some fun.” </p><p>“Well...” you faltered, “I’m not dressed up for a party.” That was an attempt to light up the heavy and forbidding mood. </p><p>Omi chuckled, you would’ve released a sigh but it wasn’t joyous. It was poison and it crawled underneath your skin, raising the hairs on your body. “Who says we’re heading to a party?” he ended.</p><p>That was when you noticed that the road was getting familiar. He was driving home. Everything became more confusing, then. Did he throw another party? Was Kento not at home? But why would he drag you with him? He never once invited you to his parties. </p><p>The car halted right in front of their gigantic gates. Omi crawled out of the car. You followed him with your heart beating like crazy inside your chest. </p><p>“Oh, nice. Everyone’s here,” Omi cheered when he noticed his Dad and your Mom talking in the living room. He certainly sounded friendly for the first time. Or was it just a façade? To cover what was about to go down? </p><p>“Omi, why did you call for us?” his father asked, wary of his son’s behavior. </p><p>Omi held up his hands as if to placate the gnawing uneasiness in the air. “Relax, daddy dearest. You’ll find out soon.” He turned his attention towards you, who was still standing in the doorway. “Well? Take a seat. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to miss this one.” </p><p>You looked at your Mom, who nodded her head at you. You sat in the nearest sofa besides your mother. </p><p>“Is this about the championship? You did well, Omi. We’ve actually prepared a celebration for you,” your mother revealed, her smile as bright as ever. </p><p>You expected Omi to brush her off with his familiar insouciance. But the boy smiled. He actually smiled at your mother. Was the world ending? </p><p>“That’s so sweet of you, Clare. Wait for me. I’ll get my speakers to warm us up before our family dinner.” </p><p>When he jogged towards the stairs, your mother gripped your hand immediately. Her eyes asking a million question but a hurried ‘What happened?’ was what spilled from her lips. </p><p>You shrugged. “I don’t know, Mom. He just dragged me here.” </p><p>Omi returned carrying his speakers. He placed it above the glass coffee table and operated the thing, connecting it to his device. There was something weird about it, though. The phone he was holding was obviously out of date. </p><p>Omi had set down the phone above the speakers then he clapped his hand together. “Are we ready for some fun tonight?” he asked like a jester. </p><p>Everything was getting weirder. You couldn’t just pin point what it was. You looked at him and to your mother. Kento joined your staring contest before nodding reluctantly to his son. </p><p>“Three years ago, my mother, Laura, got into an accident—”</p><p>“Omi!” his father hissed, standing up from his seat. </p><p>“Sit down, Dad,” Omi commanded. </p><p>Goosebumps crawled up your spine when Kento did as he was told. Why? Why couldn’t he do something with his son? That moment, you saw something in the man’s eyes. Something that undoubtedly looked like fear. What did he do to fear his own son? </p><p>“Five months after that, Dad brought a girl in our house,” he spoke, eyes boring into your mother. “I thought she was just Mom’s friend. Because when she got into the accident, it was as though the world around her collapsed. Everyone loved her.” </p><p>Five months? Your mother introduced Kento a year ago to you. They were seeing each other for two years before that? Five months after Omi’s mother got into an accident? </p><p>“But wait, how could she be Mom’s friend when she’s sucking your dick in the same room Mom was confined in?” Omi wondered. His arms were crossed together as his hand wiped his chin. As if he was a scholar trying to figure out the answers to his own questions.</p><p>You were flabbergasted to say the least. Automatically, you shot up, mortification morphing your discombobulated face. “What the fuck, Omi?! Take that back!” </p><p>Finally, he looked at you. His eyes were dead. Too dead. “You don’t believe me?” </p><p>“Of course, I don’t! Are you crazy? My mom wouldn’t do something like that!” You looked at your mother, who was sitting stiff on the sofa. “Right, Mom?” </p><p>Before she could answer, the speakers echoed a sound. A sound of slurping and sucking. Kento. He was moaning. </p><p>“Ah, fuck! That feels so good, Clare!”</p><p>Your hand flew to cover your mouth, your knees giving up on you. </p><p>“God, your mouth feels so warm,” Kento moaned. “You like that? You like sucking my cock, Clare?” </p><p>Your mother stood up. “That’s enough, you fucking lunatic!” she screamed at Omi. It was your first time to see her like this. Feral. Around him, she always seemed so sweet and composed. Like a mother would to her son. What was this? Pent-up disgust?</p><p>“Lunatic, huh?” Omi sniggered. Then he pressed on the phone again. </p><p>Sounds of moaning and screaming dominated the whole living room. And the slapping of skin to skin.</p><p>“Harder, Kento! Ah! Oh my God! Your cock feels so good!” </p><p>Kento stood up and sauntered up to his son. His eyes were burning with both embarrassment and anger. “Enough, Omi!” He tried to punch Kiyoomi but he quickly dodged. Omi used Kento’s imbalance to knee him to his stomach. Kento fell on the floor, coughing. </p><p>“Oh my God! Kento!” Your mother shrieked before running towards her fiancé. </p><p>You? You were certain you would collapse soon. Everything was too much and you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t even process what was going on. The audio kept on playing. They were loud. They were screaming each other’s name. And to think that they did all of these ignominious things inside Laura’s room. </p><p>“Don’t fucking touch me again, you filthy pig,” Omi warned. “Exhibitionism kink too strong, huh? Why, Kento Sakusa? Does it turn you on to fuck another woman while Mom’s life support beeps in the background?” </p><p>Before you knew it, there were tears in your eyes. “Omi...” you sobbed. It hurts to see him like that. So full of hatred. It was as if there was no room for happiness in him anymore. </p><p>“I knew you were doing it. But if I told someone, who would’ve believed me? I was your problematic kid, right?” Omi wiped his mouth and worked his jaw. “You look so fucking pathetic. But that isn’t the end of your bullshit, Kento.” </p><p>You believed that the night was through. That he would stop and would go somewhere far away. But when the speakers echoed yet another audio, your knees finally turned into jellies. You slumped back to the sofa. </p><p>“Laura,” Kento said, “When are you going to die? You’re hurting Omi by beeing like this. Please, Laura. Just die already. You won’t be able to play volleyball even if you wake up. Do us a favor and die. Please, die.” </p><p>Your mother tensed. She looked at Kento whose shoulder trembled. Then the man cried. Hard. </p><p>“I’m sorry, Omi! I’m sorry!” </p><p>Kiyoomi crouched, looking at his father with nothing but pure resentment. “It wouldn’t have mattered is she was paralyzed forever. I would’ve had taken care of her until my last breath. But you took her away before I could do any of that. The only person...” he gulped, “... who loved me, you took her away. So do us a favor and die, Kento.”</p><p>He stood up and went straight to his room, not looking back. You tried to calm your breathing but failed. Your system was overwhelmed with the urge to bawl your eyes out. What just happened? </p><p>“Clare! Clare!” Kento shouted when your mother stood up and ran. Holding at his stomach, he limped towards her. </p><p>You were left alone inside this huge mansion full of tragedy and melancholy. Clutching at your hair, you let the tears fall on your lap. What would happen tomorrow? What about the marriage? Was there still a marriage? </p><p>“Fuck,” you exhaled. The sadness that you have felt had been slowly replaced by loathing. Towards your mother and Kento. How could they do that? </p><p>By what Omi said, he knew about it already? But he just got a hold of an evidence today to prove it? </p><p>You knew you weren’t supposed to looked at everything on a silver lining. Whatever character Kiyoomi showed the world, it was inexcusable. He was a jerk to many. But now you understood him. There was a driving force to his behavior. </p><p>For minutes, you debated whether to climb upstairs and talk to him. Behind his anger, there was the heartache. No person wouldn’t be hurt by all of this. No matter how indifferent they looked like in the surface. </p><p>Without you ever realizing, your feet has began to move towards the stairs up until you reached his door. You debated whether to knock, but tried your luck by veering the doorknob. It’s open. </p><p>“Omi—” The sight took your breath away.</p><p>Everything was in chaos. His upper body was lying on his bed, his feet touching the floor. Shards of glass were scattered everywhere. The television screen was cracked and his pillows were torn or thrown in different directions. </p><p>“Omi?” Tiptoeing to avoid any sharp shards, you approached him. </p><p>His arm was covering his eyes. The rise and fall of his chest was abnormal, as if he just had stopped his goal to wreck his whole bedroom to rest. “You know,” he began, his voice was ragged, “I have this theory going on for a while now.”</p><p>You palmed his bed, trying to discover some broken glasses. There wasn’t. So you sat beside him. To say the least, he was calm. If he decided to go berserk, it’d be your fault for coming in a broken boy’s bedroom alone. “What is it?”</p><p>“I asked myself, why isn’t it glowing whenever I’m around her? My soulmate mark,” he rasped. </p><p>Jealousy coated your heart in that instant. “You’ve met her?” you faltered, staring at your hands. </p><p>“Yeah,” he admitted. </p><p>Grazing your soulmate mark with your pointer finger, you gulped down the unexpected disappointment that had wrapped you up like a thick blanket. “What does she look like?” </p><p>Omi chuckled lowly. The sound was genuine with a sliver of rascality that seemed to be with him all the time. “The prettiest.” </p><p>Oh. “You’re lucky, then.” There was a stab in your heart that you failed to ignore. Hearing that from him out-of-the-blue, it was somewhat painful. </p><p>“Perhaps,” he slurred. “But my mark doesn’t glow whenever she’s near or whenever I touch her. What do you think’s wrong?” </p><p>This had been the first time you had a decent conversation with him. No provocative sexual topics. Even though you were talking about his soulmate, you wanted to savor this moment. You wanted to coverse with him more. </p><p>“I don’t know. Soulmates marks are complicated. And how do you know it’s not glowing? Do you always check your inner thigh when you’re around her?” It was a half-jest question. But according to him, his soulmate mark was tattooed on his inner thigh. That was a complicated location, indeed.</p><p>“It’s not on my inner thigh. I lied about that.” He buried his elbows in the mattress then slowly sat up.</p><p>Eyes as dark as a starless sky stared at you. This kind of face— so pretty yet so jagged. Kiyoomi Sakusa was like the boys they always write in stories. Pretty face, luscious lips, sad eyes.</p><p>Underneath his boyish façade was something that some wouldn’t want to see. His eyes were red-rimmed but there was no trace of tears. He looked more like a lost boy as you drowned in his face now. Lost innocence, overflowing hatred. </p><p>“Well? Where is it?” you asked, heart pounding like a wild animal encased by your rib cage. You didn’t even know why you were so highly strung in that moment. </p><p>His head fell down to his hand. You copied his actions and stared right to where his fingers crawled. They wrapped around his pinky ring, then he slid it off, revealing you the red tattoo wrapped around the finger. </p><p>Your breath stopped. The mark... it looked like the one you have. With fervent eyes, you stared at him. “What...? Omi... are you... serious?” Perhaps he had it tattooed on his skin after knowing your soulmate mark just to mess with you. </p><p>He didn’t say a thing. He held your wrist and pulled your left hand up. You were getting dizzy and your tears were threatening to fall. </p><p>Outside the chaos in this room, the blanket of darkness covered the skies. With the magenta slowly fading in the horizon, and as the stars began to twinkle brightly in the heavens, Kiyoomi Sakusa locked both your pinkies together. </p><p>“Omi...” you sobbed, eyes blurry from the tears that kept running down from your tear ducts. </p><p>He let out a shuddering breath. “Well, shit.”</p><p>Because right in front of the both of you, the soulmate marks glowed a faint red color. A string with the same color appeared, connecting your marks together. Red string. </p><p>All this time.</p><p>Your lips kept trembling as you tried to stop your sobs. Kiyoomi. He’s your soulmate. The other half of you. The one who had been born for you. Too lost for words, you remained sobbing. </p><p>“I’m right,” he whispered. “It needed some sort of activation, huh?” His eyes were on you, and for the first time, his irises were soft. “When I told you that you are mine, I’m not fucking around. You are mine, and I have always been yours.” </p><p>You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand but they kept drenching your cheeks. “How...? Why didn’t you tell me?” </p><p>“Would it make a difference?” He sounded melancholic. </p><p>“Still—!”</p><p>Kiyoomi disentangled your pinkies. “Don’t look at me like that, Y/N.” </p><p>You blew out a breath, still couldn’t believe that of what was happening. “Like what, Omi?” </p><p>“Like you’re gonna fall in love with me.” </p><p>God. You wanted to stop crying. Your heart was being cleaved into two by seeing how hopeless your story was from the very beginning. “Is that a bad thing? Aren’t we allowed to fall in love?” </p><p>Omi sighed. His fingers found their ways through your hair, resting to either side of your head. “Everyday, I wonder about the same thing.” </p><p>He didn’t give you any chance to speak. Kiyoomi Sakusa pressed his lips gently against yours. You closed your eyes, tasting his lips that held so much wanting for you. Until it grew fervent— his tongue finding its way to the insides of your mouth, tasting every crevice. </p><p>You didn’t want to let go of the moment. Not a thing mattered as your back finally met the soft bed. Kiyoomi’s lips were still devouring you, as if you were the only thing that you would keep him alive tonight. </p><p>If you would describe the feeling, it felt like being up in the clouds yet drowning at the same time. Your muscles felt light. Your heart full. Your mind kept on repeating his name. </p><p>His fingers found their way down the hem of your shirt. Then inside, resting on your flesh. It burned but it didn’t hurt. He was soft, his touches were calming. </p><p>You sucked in a breath as his wet lips trailed down your neck. His tongue was warm as it connected to your skin and licked. </p><p>“Omi,” you softly moaned, caressing his curls. </p><p>Kiyoomi’s head remained in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ticklish. “Ask me, Y/N.” </p><p>“Ask you what?” </p><p>Between you, your heart somersaulted inside your chest. You were high up in the clouds. But Kiyoomi brought you back to reality when he said, </p><p>“Ask me how she cupped my cheeks and forced me to kiss her. Ask me how she tasted against my lips, Y/N. Your mother.”</p>
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